


♛ 𝓦𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓣𝓱𝓮𝔂 𝓒𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓤𝓼  ♛

by Arthuria_PenDragon



Series: ❦ 𝕂𝕟𝕊: 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝔽𝕒𝕞𝕚𝕝𝕪 ❦ [14]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Akashi Seijuurou Is Absolute, Aliases, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anniversary, BAMF Generation of Miracles, BAMF Kuroko Tetsuya, Badass Kuroko Tetsuya, Basketball, Betaed, Butterfly Effect, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Cults, Don't Examine This Too Closely, Don't Take This Too Seriously, Flashbacks, Fluff and Crack, Gen, Gift Fic, Gift Work, Given Names, GoM as a Family, Headcanon, I Don't Even Know, Inspired by..., Junior High, Monikers, Non-Linear Narrative, Not Canon Compliant, READ NOTES, Sects, Song: Superhero (Simon Curtis), Strong Language, Team as Family, Timeline What Timeline, Training Camp, does this count as Modern Royalty?, first names, going back to school, inspired by comments, reputation, wherein Kuroko Tetsuya being BAMF changes the GoM dynamics AND many more things as well
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-17 11:08:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 27,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29224473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arthuria_PenDragon/pseuds/Arthuria_PenDragon
Summary: Teikō wishes to reunite its best team for an anniversary celebration and so, the six schools are invited. TheKisekihave come “home“ —the Courthas assembled once more. The six — seven— prodigies of the basketball circuit rule their previous school, as if they’d never left and the teams are just left gaping and spluttering, trying to make sense of what’s going on...This training camp will be a long one...Companion to/set in the same AU as✶ 𝓙𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓛𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓣𝓱𝓮𝓶 ✶
Relationships: Akashi Seijuurou & Kiseki no Sedai | Generation of Miracles, Akashi Seijuurou & Kuroko Tetsuya, Akashi Seijuurou & Kuroko Tetsuya & Kiseki no Sedai | Generation of Miracles, Aomine Daiki & Kiseki no Sedai | Generation of Miracles, Aomine Daiki & Kuroko Tetsuya, Aomine Daiki & Kuroko Tetsuya & Momoi Satsuki, Generation of Miracles & Generation of Miracles, Kise Ryouta & Kiseki no Sedai | Generation of Miracles, Kise Ryouta & Kuroko Tetsuya, Kiseki no Sedai | Generation of Miracles & Everyone, Kiseki no Sedai | Generation of Miracles & Kuroko Tetsuya & Momoi Satsuki, Kiseki no Sedai | Generation of Miracles & Midorima Shintarou, Kiseki no Sedai | Generation of Miracles & Momoi Satsuki, Kiseki no Sedai | Generation of Miracles & Murasakibara Atsushi, Kiseki no Sedai | Generation of Miracles & Nijimura Shuuzou, Kiseki no Sedai | Generation of Miracles & Teikou Junior High (Characters), Kiyoshi Teppei & Kuroko Tetsuya
Series: ❦ 𝕂𝕟𝕊: 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝔽𝕒𝕞𝕚𝕝𝕪 ❦ [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2021426
Comments: 176
Kudos: 182





	1. 𝓐𝓻𝓻𝓲𝓿𝓪𝓵

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Let_The_World_Honor_The_Fallen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Let_The_World_Honor_The_Fallen/gifts).



> I don't know what this is... It's just... My mind went crazy after reading the comments on the previous story.  
> @Let_The_World_Honor_The_Fallen this is my gift to you, because YOUR craziness sent me spiralling into this AU more, than anything else. I still can't decide if I should thank you or not...  
> But I had fun writing this anyway, so I guess... I should thank you... 😁  
> And... don't take this too seriously? Yea, I guess, you shouldn't take this too seriously and treat this more like humor/crack...
> 
> The song has little to do with the fic itself. I just put my Youtube on shuffle and stumbled upon a Kiseki no Sedai AMV, that had this song. And I noticed how it fit them... so yea... (Especially in this AU, since people don't belive they are on good terms/ how good Kuroko is. And how they all kinda "changed" the basketball world, when they rose to fame. And the "rewrite our history" part fits, since here, Kuroko beat sense into them before they left Teikō and changed their dynamics completely. And how they don't need anyone to belive them/like them, because they have each other and that is enough for all seven of them.)
> 
> Here is the AMV, in case you have not seen it yet and wanna watch:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jqjz9NtuBrQ 
> 
> DISCLAIMER: Neither the song, nor the anime/manga belong to me and I make no profit from this work

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta read and corrected on 09/02/2021  
> @Stef, thank you for all the help! You did a wonderful job!

**_I don’t need you to believe in me  
I know how to change my destiny  
Sit down but to rewrite our history, rewrite our history, rewrite our history_ **

**_(...)_ **

**_Gonna start it over, don’t you know what we could be  
A new beginning, fighting ’til we’re winning_ **

**_(...)_ **

**_Say come on and show the world who you really are  
It’_ ** **_s not enough to be better than the rest  
Gotta take it to the top and make yourself a superstar_ **

**_(...)_ **

**_You don’_ ** **_t need them to believe in you  
Get your mission on lock and see it through  
You've got all the power you need in you_ **

— _Superhero_ BY Simon Curtis

When Satsuki told him to attend training because this was _important_ — yes, with the extra emphasis on the word — Aomine honestly didn’t expect _this_. He blinked owlishly at Tōō and his coach, and he scratched his ear, just to make sure he’d heard it correctly.

“What did you just say, Imayoshi?“ he asked, looking at the Captain.

His coach sighed exasperatedly and even Imayoshi’s ever-pleasant expression slipped into annoyance, if only for a moment.

Still, Aomine _noticed_ it. When you were surrounded by people like his ex-teammates/siblings, you learned. You were literally _forced_ to be observant to an extent, even if no one here knew that about him. Tetsu and Sei could simply have a _plain_ expression and Ryō was too good of an actor to show his true feelings without being probed to do so. Even Shin hid his true thoughts and feelings behind cool (cutting) politeness, while Atsu often wore that ever-bored expression. So yes, let people assume what they will about him... but he was good at reading people. Not as good as Tetsu and Sei, but he had his fair share of knowledge, _thank you very much_. So yes, he noticed the annoyance on Imayoshi’s face, no matter how brief of a flash it was.

“As I said, Aomine-kun,“ the Third Year drawled way too sweetly ( _shit_ , that tone was dangerously close to Sei’s I’m-going-to-murder-you-the slowest-possible-way-until-you-beg-for-death tone), “Teikō Chūgakkō wants the _Kiseki no Sedai_ to gather once more. They invited us to a training camp. Something about you six motivating the current First String or whatnot.”

“All Aomine could motivate them to do is skip practice and classes.“ Wakamatsu muttered, and Aomine sent him a smouldering glare.

“ _Shut your trap_ , Wakamatsu,“ he snarled, before nodding to Imayoshi and his coach. “Fine by me. Kinda miss the Teikō colours anyway. Gods know at least _they_ can give me some fun. I’d sooner put up with those five, than the lot of you,” he grunted, glaring at Wakamatsu again. “Seriously, the only bearable ones are Satsuki and Sakurai... ”

* * *

Kagami eyed his partner. The news of them going to Teikō for a two week-long training camp didn’t get any reaction out of him, other than a slight nod of agreement, that yes, he accepted his previous coach’s invitation. Still, Kagami was worried . . . _just a little bit_.

Kuroko didn’t speak much of his time in Teikō. If not for the team’s fame, Kagami was certain they wouldn’t even know the other five’s names, because Kuroko was damn tight-lipped about anything and everything relating to Teikō. (He could only guess at the team’s previous dynamics from how they interacted when facing each other on the court, but that wasn’t really too helpful. Despite what people said, he wasn’t _hopelessly_ oblivious. The meetings with Kise, Aomine, and even Midorima . . . whenever the Miracles looked at each other, it had always felt like there were a thousand and one unspoken things and messages lurking below the surface. It was as if they had their secret language, that no one else could decipher.)

He felt his anxiety grow, as the bus took a turn. His breath hitched upon seeing the simple, yet elegant and commanding building with its red-bricked gate. The plate on the side read “Teikō Chūgakkō.” He glanced next to him at Kuroko, who was as calm and expressionless as ever.

“So, this is Teikō . . . “ he muttered. ‘ _Even the building has_ _an aura‘_ , Kagami thought. 

There were students scattered around in smaller groups in front of the building, speaking and laughing quietly. It was clear that these students were younger than them and the Miracles. They were a bit more carefree, if that was a word he could use . . . but at the same time, there was an odd aura of elite-ness everywhere.

“Hai. Teikō.“ Kuroko’s tone was quiet, but it carried a sort of . . . _power_ which Kagami had never heard from the Shadow. With the way the others tensed and threw glances at Kuroko, he was sure they’d noticed as well. Well, Hyūga, Izuki and the coach had surely noticed — perhaps even Kiyoshi.

As he eyed the gate, Kuroko’s stance changed, just ever so slightly. Then he hummed and nodded to them. “This way. I’ll lead you to the First String Gym. It’s where the meeting will be held, and then whatever the school had in mind for this week . . . they’ll surely share it.“

Kuroko took the lead, walking two steps in front of them. His back was straight, his stride oddly elegant and confident. Kagami had never seen him that way before, not even on the court. (And damn, if it was _possible_ that there was someone who moved _elegantly_ , without a single wasted step, while playing — that was Kuroko.) And for the first time since Kagami met him, it was almost like Kuroko was _drawing_ the students’ attention to himself, in contrast to his usual invisibility.

The stares and the whispers were not as inconspicuous, as some of the Teikō students thought. They huddled together in their white-and-blue uniforms, throwing looks at Kuroko.

_“Hey, isn’t he from the Basketball Club?“_

_“Look, there’s the Phantom. Lucky him . . . I heard he’d been mentored by their Captain through all three years!”_

_“Look! Look! There’s the Phantom Prince!”_

_“Hey, why is the Prince here? Where’s the Wild Knight? They were always together . . . ”_

_“Huh? Is that the Prince’s new team?“_

Kagami twitched, his jaw dropping. He wasn’t an idiot. Phantom was surely meant for Kuroko — some of the braver students pointing at Kuroko was also a dead giveaway — but why in the name of kami did they call Kuroko _a freaking Prince_?! He looked at his teammates, and some of them were twitching and staring at Kuroko. Ah, so they noticed too.

Kagami looked back at Kuroko, who looked unperturbed by the whispering. Considering how observant his friend was — his whole style of basketball was based on observation, from what he understood about Misdirection — it was impossible for him _not_ to notice. But, for whatever reason, Kuroko chose to ignore the comments.

A blonde kid approached them, wearing gym clothes. He looked just a little younger than him, so Kagami supposed that this might be the kid’s last year in Junior High. The kid smiled shyly and bowed to Kuroko. (The Hell?!)

“Kuroko-sempai.”

Kagami blinked. Okay . . . everything considered Kuroko had definitely _been_ the sempai of this kid. But _still_ , it was _so weird_ to actually hear him being addressed as “Kuroko-sempai.”

Kuroko nodded, and his expression seemed to soften a little, as he gazed at the kid. “Tachibana-kun, it’s nice to see you again. Has anyone arrived yet?“

“Iie, sempai. You . . . “ now the kid looked at the rest of them, “ . . . are the first ones.”

“I see. Tachibana-kun, they’re Seirin, and this is my coach, Aida Riko,“ Kuroko gestured at them.

“A pleasure to meet you. I’m Tachibana Haruto.”

They all muttered a greeting, and then the kid turned to lead them inside. Kuroko easily fell in step with him. All Kagami could do was linger behind them and try to catch more information. Eavesdropping on others’ conversation was impolite, but all that odd whispering had made him curious about Teikō.

“Say, who took lead after we graduated? I hadn’t asked Seijūrō back then, and in all honesty . . . he’d gone to Rakuzan, so far away. We meet rarely. With how things had been, it slipped my mind.“

“Ah, Ito became the Captain and the coaches asked me to be the Vice-cap,“ the kid said shyly. “And I accepted.”

Kuroko hummed, “Ito-kun . . . talk about Sei being thorough in choosing the best. And congratulations on your success.”

Kagami rubbed his ear again. Not only was Kuroko using first names, but was that a _nickname_ just now? What the hell was with the _Kiseki_? Was there something he — they didn’t know about?

The kid seemed to light up at the praise, like a Christmas tree. He muttered something in answer which Kagami couldn’t catch. They arrived soon enough, and Kagami’s jaw dropped at the sheer size of the gym. It was twice the size of the one they had at Seirin.

“Wh-what the...?!“ he choked, looking at Kuroko. “Oi, Kuroko, is this the gym?“

Kuroko nodded at him (Kagami swore Tachibana threw him a dark, withering look as if he’d badmouthed the Imperial family or something,) and glanced around. “One of the three gyms that belong to the Basketball Club. Each String has its own gym. The Club is led and managed mostly by the Captain and the Head Manager. The training of the Second String often falls to the First String’s Vice-captain, since the Club has around a hundred members.”

Hyūga whistled. “That’s a lot. I heard Teikō has a big Club... but kami... that’s a lot.“

Kuroko hummed, amusement flashing in his blue eyes. “Yes Cap’n, it is.“

“How many players are on the First String?“ Izuki asked.

Kuroko hummed, looking at their Vice-cap. “That varies. It depends on the skills of the players, but ten to fifteen, most of the time.“

Kagami’s eyes went wide. Ten to fifteen. They had around a hundred members and ten to fifteen players were considered First String. _Hell_. That sounded tough. And Kuroko had been in that ten to fifteen for all three years.

Perhaps there was even more to the Shadow than what they knew? As nifty as Misdirection was, Kuroko _had_ to have a few tricks which they hadn’t seen yet, right? Teikō didn’t seem like a place where it was easy to be considered the best, given that there were roughly ninety other students competing with you.

And yet Kuroko was one of the _Kiseki no Sedai_. It had been made clear from their brief encounters with the other three that Kise, Aomine, and Midorima considered Kuroko a full-fledged member, even if their bonds seemed to be strained. (Even if the world forgot about the existence of the Phantom Sixth, the other three Miracles certainly didn’t... The way they all dissed Seirin, repeatedly saying Kuroko should have chosen a better school was not something forgettable, either.) And the _Kiseki no Sedai_ had been and were still called prodigies, even with how demanding Teikō seemed to be.

Suddenly, the mystery that went by the name of Kuroko Tetsuya had gained a hundred more layers... and Kagami felt like he knew next to nothing about his own partner.

* * *

Kise couldn’t help but bounce, as his team got off the bus in front of Teikō. Just looking at the school brought back all the memories he’s made there ( _From the rigorous training Seicchi put them through to the private sessions with Tetsucchi, after the Phantom had suggested to him his style, and the feeling of the Shinigami hovering over him after the Phantom deemed the session done... to Haizaki finally leaving to the sweeping victories they achieved for the school to gaining their moniker, known country-wide, to Tetsucchi getting pissed and beating some sense into them before graduation_ [and the despair which he’d felt then, looking into those cold, blank orbs, and Tetsucchi just **disappearing** before he scored, oh kami, **the despair**!] _to the Oath the seven of them had made to their aliases whispered in fear and awe..._ ).

“Kise, tone down your bouncing a little, will you?“ Kasamatsu asked, a silver of annoyance creeping into his voice — but it was not a dangerous level of annoyance, so Kise ignored it. He was just happy to see his siblings again. Sure, he could see Kuroko, Aomine and Momoi pretty often, but the others... the distance between them was much further, so it was harder to meet up.

“Sorry Kasamatsu-sempai... but you know, being here brings back a lot of _memories_ and well... “ he trailed off, swinging back and forth on his heels.

“Please behave, Kise,“ his coach said, shaking his head with a sigh. “Remember, you’re representing Kaijō now.”

Kise snorted softly. “This is _Teikō_ , kantoku. Of course, I’ll behave. I have an image to keep up, you know? Many students here still remember us... ”

Kasamatsu and Moriyama just huffed, and the others shook their heads, as they continued to head towards the gate. Kise couldn’t help the bounce in his steps, the closer they got. Teikō had been a hard experience, but, in a way, Teikō had become their home. It was _here_ in Teikō that he’d found his siblings (in all but blood). It was their title and Oath which tied them together just as strongly as if it were blood.

They ran into Rakuzan just before the gate, and Kise noted, absentmindedly, that the two coaches greeted each other like old friends. He wondered where his coach knew Rakuzan’s from . . . But then his brown eyes settled on the shortest member of the other team, his heterochromatic eyes meeting Kise’s without a blink. His red-and-gold gaze was as sharp as always, but beneath that sharpness lay a gentle soul, even if no one — or rather, _very few_ — could see it.

He waved enthusiastically. “Seicchi~!” he bounced over to the redhead, forcing both of their teams to stop, as he hugged his (ex-)Captain.

Akashi briefly returned the hug and then took a step back. “A pleasure to see you, Ryōta, but please let go of me. We have an image to keep, remember?“

Kise hummed and let go, taking a step back. “Ah~, gomen, gomen. Are the others here yet?“

“Tōō and Seirin are, if Tetsuya’s earlier message is any indication. Atsushi said they’d be here in fifteen minutes. Shintarō hasn’t informed me, but perhaps Satsuki or Tetsuya know something.”

Kise hummed and whirled on his heels. “Always two steps ahead, you and Tetsucchi both, ne?“

“Being two steps ahead of everyone means you can be properly prepared, Ryōta. Have you forgotten? If so, Tetsuya will be most displeased, and I might be inclined to tell Sanada-kantoku to allow you and Tetsuya a _private_ session...”

Kise squeaked in fright, looking at Akashi with wide eyes. “No, _not_ that! Have mercy Seicchi! I don’t want to _die_ ~!”

Akashi’s face remained mostly calm, but the smugness was clearly detectable on his features. “Then _do_ quiet down, please. We have an example to set.”

Kise huffed and took a deep breath, composing himself. Akashi was right, like always — or rather, Akashi was right, like most of the time (the only times he wasn’t right, was when their Phantom was right). Finally calm, Kise lingered in front of the gate. He heard Kasamatsu speak behind him, and he knew, even without looking, that Kaijō’s Captain was looking at Akashi.

“How did you do that? That’s the fastest I’ve seen him... wind down so to speak... “

“Practice. Practice and patience,“ Akashi said calmly.

As they passed the gate, they immediately walked towards the door, Kise falling half-a-step behind Akashi. Neither of the teams said anything, as their respective Miracles put some distance between them, but everyone noticed how easily Kise fell behind Akashi. Rakuzan, knowing their Captain far too well, weren’t surprised at the scene — Kaijō, however, was.

Even as they passed, everyone could hear the whispers of the few students who were outside. _“Look... two of them again! And... their new teams? Why are they here?“_

_“Look, that’s Kise Ryōta! Kyaa~! You think I could get an autograph from him?“_

_“Hell, isn’t that Akashi Seijūrō?“_

_“Nani?! What are the Emperor and the Duke doing here? Why come back?”_

_“Eh, I’ve seen the Prince and one of the Knights too...“_

_“Rumour has it that the Lady’s gone to the same school as one of the Knights. Or perhaps the Prince?“_

Kise bit the inside of his cheek, as he heard those old monikers being whisper-shouted among the students. Sure, the First Years of Teikō were mostly clueless (although the older students had probably said something about them by now), but those who had seen them train/play in Teikō’s colours were by far the loudest.

He also noted the actual information that was being passed around. Just as Akashi had said, Tōō and Seirin had arrived and were probably already in the First String gym, for nostalgia. He glanced at his Captain and noticed that beneath the calmness, even Akashi was having fun at hearing their old monikers again. But then again, why wouldn’t he enjoy hearing his moniker? Kami-sama knew, the redhead had the fanciest one...

Glancing behind his back, he noticed a few odd looks being passed around Rakuzan and Kaijō as well. Ah, so some people from their teams had caught the whispers too. Oh, this is going to be so, _so fun_...

* * *

Midorima squeezed his lucky item of the day, hidden in his pocket — a small, squeaky basketball ( _no_ , he _hadn’t_ sneaked around all day yesterday to find his and his siblings’ lucky items for the week) — as they passed the gates. His back straightened, and it almost felt like he had come home. He still remembered in perfect clarity how they rose to fame, how they (figuratively) ruled the school...

But really, it wasn’t _hard_ to pretend they ruled the place, since their monikers included titles like “Emperor,” “Prince,” “Lady,” “Duke,” and creative, almost hilarious variations of “Knight.” The thought made the corner of his mouth twitch upwards.

They made up an entire “court.” When Nijimura-sempai had come back to visit them and heard their new monikers, their ex-Captain laughed himself silly, calling them the _Court of Miracles_. So _creative_ of him . . . They’d chased Niimura-sempai around for making fun of them, but, well, while Midorima would never admit it (and he was sure the others’ wouldn’t, either), it was fun to have those monikers. And besides, they were oddly fitting, if one gave more thought to it all...

“Shin-chan? Are you... okay?“ Midorima glanced at his partner, tamping down the laughter rising in his throat as best he could, and quirked an eyebrow.

“Why wouldn’t I be, Takao?“

“Uh... you’ve just seem oddly quiet and tense, ever since Teikō was mentioned.“

Midorima shook his head. “You’re mistaken, Takao. I’m fine. Nothing to worry about. It’s just... oddly nostalgic to be back here.”

They ran into Yōsen, waiting just outside the entrance and a certain giant immediately perked up. “Shi-chin,“ he waved lazily, offering the box he was holding — a box of mochi.

He nodded, “Atsu.“ 

Murasakibara offering his snacks so easily meant the Center was in a _good_ mood, so Midorima didn’t feel like offending his childish teammate and brother by refusing. He took one of the mochis offered. Besides, it had red bean filling, according to the box, and he loved red beans.

“Have the others arrived yet?“

Murasakibara shrugged. “Most likely. You know that Sei-chin and Tet-chin hate being late. And Sa-chin would drag Dai-chin out of bed, if only not to piss off their Captain...”

Midorima huffed, “I can understand that. I believe Imayoshi Shōichi to be a disturbing individual and that’s saying _something_ , considering how Sei and Tetsu are when they are in a bad mood.“

Murasakibara shuddered, which caused both teams’ members to raise eyebrows at them, but Midorima ignored the lot. They didn’t know, had never experienced, _the health hazard_ of when Sei and/or Tetsu were pissed. “Don’t remind me, Shi-chin. I’d rather _not_ have nightmares tonight.”

The Shooting Guard pinched his nose and shook his head. Best not think of the blood or Haizaki’s broken finger . . .

_“Look, the other two Knights!”_

_“Eh, what are they doing here? And what do you mean, ‘other two’?“_

_“I saw the Emperor and the Duke just now. Dressed in Rakuzan and Kaijō colours respectively. And Michiko said she’d seen the Wild Knight and the Lady with Tōō!”_

_“Nani?! What’s next, the Prince turning up too?!“_

_“He actually arrived just before the Lady and the Wild Knight...”_

_“Nani, the Celestial Knight?! He’s gone to Shūtoku? Man, I’ll never make it into that school then . . . “_

_“Ah, that means the entire Court is here. What for? Yōsen... the Lazy Knight chose that school? But then again they are known for defensive play... ”_

Midorima glanced at his tallest brother, who stopped chewing just a little, to listen to all the conversation going on around them. The kids probably thought they were being sneaky and inconspicuous, hissing their old monikers like that... but they really, really weren’t.

If the odd looks their coaches and teams were giving them were anything to judge by, Midorima was sure _everyone_ else had heard the whispers as well. “Ah, Atsushi... what... why...?” Yōsen’s Shooting Guard asked.

Midorima readjusted his glasses as he prepared to answer, but for once, Murasakibara deemed answering worth the effort. “Reputation, Muro-chin. _Reputation._ Don’t think we were only known outside of the school ...”

Before any more could be said, a blonde kid arrived and introduced himself as Tachibana Haruto. The name was familiar, but Midorima couldn’t place it, for some reason. He led them inside.

“Have the others arrived yet?“ he asked.

Tachibana threw him a glance and nodded. “Hai. The Prince and the Wild Knight were the first ones, with the Lady. Then... the Captain arrived as well, with the Duke.”

“I see,“ he hummed in agreement, as Murasakibara offered him snacks again. Midorima blindly reached for a mochi as they walked towards the First String gym, well aware of the disbelieving stares, choking, and coughing coming from behind his back.

Ah, good, old Teikō reputation. It was _so good_ to be home...

* * *

“Shintarō, Atsushi,“ Akashi greeted, his voice loud and clear, as the two missing teams poured into the gym.

Both of his brothers nodded to him, their gazes glinting with joy at seeing him. “Sei-chin.“

“Sei.“

Akashi noticed a few raised eyebrows at the nicknames his (ex-)teammates — his _siblings_ , though no one knew that and they didn’t _need_ to know it — called him, but he just threw a warning look at Rakuzan. It was bad enough that he couldn’t get Reo to stop him calling “Sei-chan.“ He didn’t need Chihiro and the other two Generals getting _ideas_.

“Do we know what the plan is for today?“ Shintarō asked. “And is sempai coming as well?“

Akashi shook his head, “Tetsuya has just gone after kantoku, and no, Nijimura-sempai won’t make it here today, according to the manager. But he’ll drop by, they said. I guess he wouldn’t miss a chance of making fun of us again.“

The teams blinked at that. Who was this Nijimura guy to _dare_ to make fun of the (in)famous _Kiseki no Sedai_?

Midorima sighed, “There goes our dignity.”

”We lost any dignity we had in the third year, Shin,“ Aomine grunted, leaning against the wall. “I just don’t know when. Was it when sempai came to visit? Or maybe it was after the Nationals when we pissed off Tetsu?“

The Miracles all shivered at the memory. “ _Daiki_ ,“ Akashi called sharply, his heterochromatic eyes narrowing, “Don’t. We certainly don’t _need_ nightmares about _that_ day... Do _you_?“

Tōō’s Ace frowned, while Rakuzan wondered who this “Tetsu,” was to give _Akashi Seijūrō_ , of all people, nightmares. They would have liked to meet that person and ask him for a few tips.

“Ah, no,” Aomine admitted, “In hindsight, I’d like to sleep. If we’re going to be going through our old training routines, we’ll need proper sleep.”

Akashi nodded, “Glad we agree. So, for the sake of our health, _do not_ mention that day again.”

“Eh, _Ahominecchi_ ,” a certain blonde muttered, snickering softly.

“What was _that_?! Come _again_ , you blonde menace?!” Aomine growled, his eyes glinting sharply.

“And you’re _deaf_ too... ? No wonder **_I_** ended being called _Duke..._ and _you_ just a lowly _Knight_. One would have to be insane to trust you with something important,“ Kise sang tauntingly. Aomine was just about ready to pounce, like a bloodthirsty panther.

Their teams were throwing them scared and exasperated looks, with some people muttering about this whole camp being a suicide mission, given the fact that they were allowing all the Miracles into the same building. Even the two coaches were frowning. Takeuchi was about to interfere when Akashi spoke up.

“Ryōta, Daiki. _Enough_ ,“ the redhead warned.

To the astonishment of many — especially Kaijō and Tōō, who had experience with their foolhardy aces’ stubbornness — the two immediately clamped their mouths shut and muttered an apology towards each other and then towards the redhead as well.

Akashi sighed, massaging his forehead, “One more like _that_ and I’ll tell Sanada-kantoku that you two would like a _private_ training session with Tetsuya, on top of anything they may have planned. _Am I clear_?”

Aomine and Kise both paled, yelped and backed off, “Clear as crystal, Sei(cchi),” they said in sync.

Akashi threw the two another sharp look, “Good. Now, as for your moniker, _Ryōta..._ you only have it because of Tetsuya, and _we all know it_. No one in their right mind would trust anything overly important to you either. So whoever said it first had to have been drunk on victory.“

Aomine grinned widely at those words, as if he had just won the lottery, while Kise looked like Akashi had ripped out his heart. Before anything could get even more out of hand, the Sixth Player of Teikō returned with their coach in tow. The coach smiled, pleased at the sight of the school’s biggest prodigies. However, not everyone was so pleased in being in the same place as the Miracles.

The problem didn’t lay with the teams, but rather with the Miracles themselves. Everyone noticed the whispers and the looks being thrown between the ex-teammates — plus Kise and Aomine’s angry recent exchange didn’t bode well, either. (And seriously... what was with all this “Knight” and “Duke” business? Was it some sort of odd, coded language of the Teikō students, both former and current, or _what_?)

These two weeks would be a damn long time to survive when in the crossfire of six ex-teammates who were fighting like a pack of wolves over the last bone...


	2. 𝓐𝓵𝓵 𝓗𝓪𝓲𝓵 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓜𝓲𝓻𝓪𝓬𝓵𝓮𝓼

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one ended up with Angst/Feels in it, instead of Crack... Whoopsie? 😅  
> But in my defence, I cannot write Kiseki without some sort of Feels/Angst, with how they went to different schools...  
> Anyway, I hope you'll enjoy! ☺️
> 
> Beta read and corrected on 10/02/2021  
> @Stef, thank you for all the help!

The teams were given accomodations in a nearby hotel and now, they were walking towards Teikō again. The seven ex-students were strolling casually in the front; Akashi and Kuroko were side by side, not too close to one another. Aomine was lazily spinning a ball on his finger, seemingly lost in thought. Seeing the relaxed atmosphere, the teams eyed them oddly, waiting for the situation to blow up. Yesterday’s meeting in the gym had been quite disastrous, and now many were cautious.

Even the coaches lingered nearby, just in case they had to forcefully separate the Miracles. They had plenty of experience with how clingy or violent Akashi, Aomine and Kise could be. Right now, however, they were oddly quiet and relaxed. Still, even though they were relaxed, everyone else was tense and hyper-aware of the seven, in case something went very, _very_ awry.

Aomine started dribbling the ball, which caused a few of the people walking behind the _Kiseki_ to startle. Others’ eyes narrowed, ready to spring into action if Aomine decided to violently hurl the ball at one of his ex-teammates.

“Where’d you get the ball from, Daicchi?“ Kise asked, glancing at the Power Forward.

“Ah, Tetsu had it with him yesterday,“ he answered flippantly and then tossed the ball. The action had others tensing. Susa and Imayoshi were ready to move to hold him back. But Kuroko simply caught the ball lightly and started to dribble it in a similar manner to Aomine, which surprised several people who had seen Kuroko play before, as they had not witnessed him holding onto a ball during a game for too long.

“I asked Sanada-kantoku, if I could take one to practice ball handling on the way back. He said it was fine, as long as we brought it back, because there will be an inventory check in a few days and he didn’t want anything missing. I told him we’ll return it today and he agreed.”

“You . . . you’ll end up sleeping cradling a basketball one of these days, Tetsuya,“ Akashi remarked.

Kuroko shrugged and then tapped the ball, sending it flying. Kise caught it and started doing tricks of his own. The Phantom shrugged, “You’re mistaking me for Daiki. That would be his style, not mine. Or Shintarō’s, if a basketball happens to be the daily lucky item.”

Midorima huffed at that, his eyes narrowing as the others snickered, “Not funny, Tetsu,“ the Shooting Guard grouched.

Yet again, it startled the teams how easily the seven used each other’s given names. Sure, they’d heard Aomine call Kuroko “Tetsu“ . . . in fact, they’d never heard him address the teal by any other way, and Akashi had that habit of addressing everyone (rather intimidatingly) by their given names. Kise had that odd habit of adding _–cchi_ to the names of the people he respected, while Murasakibara childishly called everyone _–chin_. . . but it was always with their family names. Until now. And Kuroko too, in a rather out of character way, in Seirin’s opinion, was addressing the Kiseki by their given names, and it sounded _eerily close_ to the way Akashi addressed everybody. ( _Read_ : frighteningly close)

“I was being serious.“

“And Tet-chin is right, too,“ Murasakibara added. “You _would_ do it, if it were the lucky item, and we’re not making fun of you. It’s just a fact.”

Midorima glared sharply, but Akashi gave him a look, “Shintarō. Be nice. We’re _not_ making fun of you. We all have our habits. What those are exactly . . . is a different matter entirely.”

“Sure, sure.“

For a moment, there was quiet between them, only the sound of the bouncing and swishing of the ball was heard, as the seven of them dribbled and tossed it around — yes, even Momoi took a turn. Several players, as well as the coaches, noted that she had fine ball handling skills for someone, who didn’t play “officially.”

“Your ball handling skills are impressive, Momoi-san,“ Yōsen’s coach said, a small smile on her face.

The pink-haired manager smiled, “I love analysing as much as I love playing! But I like being around the boys, so that’s why I chose to be a manager. Like this, I can still be close to basketball. Besides, while Teikō has an enormous Club, they don’t officially allow girls to sign up as players. Still, Dai and Tetsu taught me a lot. You can’t _not_ learn how to play, with how good these six are.”

“You’re a quick learner. It wasn’t _hard_ to teach you,“ Kuroko remarked. “Besides, you knew Dai far earlier than the rest of us and we know he’s been chasing a ball since he learned to run. Out of us all, him and Sei have played the longest. I started in fifth grade, and by then, they were already playing junior basketball. Shin and Atsu started in our First Year, and Ryō dropped in during the second. If not for him seeing Dai training, he might not have stuck around.“

“True,“ the other Miracles agreed.

“Besides,“ Akashi added, “Sanada-kantoku didn’t _mind_ you staying during our afternoon training. Why do you think you had such good grades from PE? He told on you to the teacher. I remember him saying that you being around did the trick and motivated Daiki and Atsushi, even after we . . . started slipping apart.“

There was a heartbeat of silence, as the seven frowned at the reminder. The ball was now in Momoi’s hands, cradled as if it were some sort of irreplaceable treasure.

“Ah... that reminds me... I thought you... didn’t like each other?“ Hyūga asked, raising an eyebrow. “Splitting up and all that...”

The seven shared a long look, and then they _all_ snorted. “You’re kidding, right?“ Aomine asked sharply. “We’re like siblings. Sure, we weren’t the perfect team through all three years...“

“You can leave behind a team you have little attachment to... But by now, we’re _family_. You don’t leave your family behind. _Ever_ ,“ Murasakibara stated, his tone matter-of-fact with none of the usual laziness in it. That caught Yōsen’s attention, since they knew that their Center was being dead serious — and with how much of a big baby he could be, he was rarely serious.

That admission sent several people reeling, and even the coaches raised a few eyebrows. “Why not stay together, then?“ Harasawa asked. “One of the schools — _any_ school would have jumped on the chance to have you all on the same team, still.”

“The skills we have are equal parts blessing and a curse,“ Midorima said, readjusting his glasses. “We didn’t find opponents in the opposing teams. The more our skills grew, the likelier we were to get carried away. We _crushed_ other teams. But the worst one . . . it had to have been our last Nationals against Meikō. We won, 111 — 11 and we weren’t even playing seriously, just toying with them.”

Several people hissed at the numbers, as if they’d been physically hit.

“Tetsuya reminded us what it was like to play with passion. He reminded us that to get somewhere, anywhere . . . we needed to love the game,“ Akashi said softly. “That day . . . just a few weeks after that Nationals, we learned that we shouldn’t underestimate the one whom we made into who he is,“ he glanced at Kuroko fondly. “It was him who reminded us that we could still challenge each other and have _fun_. That we still have some room left to grow.“

“After that,“ Kise picked up, “we decided to go to different schools, to play on strong teams. Because we could — we _can_ challenge each other and have fun. And an occasional loss from one of our own...“

“...is a reminder not to get carried away again, because there’s always someone who’s better or luckier, than us,“ Murasakibara said. “Because the game’s not only about our skills or the strategy, but luck too. Luck and fighting spirit. Tet-chin reminded us of that.”

“That was the day we realised that no matter how many victories we have ...“ Aomine said, looking at Kuroko. Kuroko hummed at the other, stopped, and their fists met, “no victory is worth losing a sibling. And that day ... we almost lost Tetsu.“

“And we wouldn’t be, where we are — we wouldn’t be who we are, without Tetsucchi,“ Kise said wistfully. “Some people may forget about him or downright call the _Phantom Sixth_ of Teikō a legend...“ the others snorted at that and Midorima muttered ”ridiculous,” his voice just barely audible, “but he’s as much one of us, as anyone else.“

“Some may say there are only five of us . . .“ Akashi said, as they resumed walking, “but those . . . _those_ are the ones who’ll regret the most. When they speak about the _Kiseki no Sedai_ , they speak about **_six_** players. Six on the court, and a seventh on the sidelines,“ he gave Momoi a pointed look, who smiled at that. “We can stand up as a team right this instant and play as if we never even stopped . . . Shadows are quiet, after all. But there can’t be light without shadow, just as there is no shadow without light. We can stand together and win, like we always did, because we still know each other, like we did back then. We still trust each other the same way. Our skills may have developed or changed slightly since we graduated, but we’re _still_ a team.”

“We love each other like siblings, and it’s fun to play together,“ Momoi said. “But we love basketball even more. If splitting apart meant that we could keep loving the game and we had to figure out how to stay together even when we're apart . . . we did it.“

There was another moment of silence. The teams found themselves speechless at the admission of the prodigies.

“For once of Teikō . . . is always of Teikō,“ Kuroko said, his tone quiet, but steady, still clearly audible for everyone.

“ _Once of Teikō, is always of Teikō_ ,“ the other six returned, their tones just as serious as Kuroko’s.

The sincerity and emotions in their voices sent the teams reeling, because they’d never heard any of the seven speak in such a manner before. It also hadn’t escaped their attention that they had inched closer to each other as they spoke, tightening their little circle. Suddenly, they all had a whole new picture of the _Kiseki no Sedai_.

They weren’t a prodigy team, whose memory got tainted by splitting up. Rather, the memory of them as a team seemed to be that much brighter, now that they knew the truth. Now that they knew the Miracles had given up being a team, that they had made sacrifices all because they loved basketball more than anything.

It was Himuro who spoke up, clearing his throat a little, “Ah . . . I guessed you had some _angst_ between you, since you split up . . . and it _is_ angst, but it’s honestly _not_ the kind I was expecting.”

Akashi frowned, eyes narrowing a little on the Yōsen player, “There’s nothing of that sort. We love the sport, and we still care for each other. That’s all. I’m not saying I don’t miss an occasional shōgi match with Shintarō or Tetsuya while we were planning our upcoming match. Or that I don’t miss Ryōta and Daiki bickering . . . occasionally . . . but we’ve settled down where we are. Teikō teaches its students to win. But all those _victories_ taught _us_ that having fun comes first. If you lose sight of the ones who trusted their dreams to you and to whom you trust your own dreams . . . it’s not fun anymore, and what you enjoyed becomes bitter and lonely.”

“And we learned the hard way not to break others’ dreams . . .” Kuroko said quietly, “but carry them with us. There are many who don’t like us for the way we played through our three years as a team, but there are others, who . . . speak about wanting to be like us. And there’s nothing wrong with that. We’ll help them to do it . . . but at the same time, we’re going to make sure they don’t end up nearly-broken, like we did.”

Momoi hummed, and then she started dribbling the ball again. Her action broke through the morose mood around the group. “Alright, _enough_. We’re okay, and we’re happy. How about we have fun while we’re here, hm? We’ll have to go back to long-distance texts and weekend meetings once this camp is over, so how about we use this time wisely?“

“Well said, Satsuki,“ Akashi agreed.

The girl giggled, and then she made a long pass which people noticed was a lot like how Kuroko handled his own passes — not exactly the same, but close. Said teal-haired player jumped to catch the ball and started dribbling towards the schoolgate.

Aomine smirked and took off, running after the Phantom. A moment later, the other Miracles did the same. The teams watched, blinking owlishly, as Kise tried to take the ball from Kuroko, all while they still _somehow_ managed to make their way forward towards the doors. Kuroko passed to Aomine, and the Power Forward caught it without hesitation, speeding towards the door, only for Murasakibara and Midorima to block him. Aomine turned and passed to Akashi . . .

The teams just stared, because two of these six were usually quiet and unwilling to even practice. And yet here they were having an impromptu three-on-three. The Teikō students lingering around were watching with wide, enraptured eyes, squealing at the sight of the six players just fooling around and having fun.

(But damn it, the teams had to admit that even when they were fooling around and not playing in an official match, the six of them looked deadly and elegant, as they duelled for the ball. Even Kuroko, who appeared and disappeared from time to time like he always did, seemed just as elegant and deadly as the others. In that moment, Seirin decided, even their reserved Phantom looked amazing and every bit _worthy_ of being called a Miracle.)

For a moment, the teams decided to turn their attention towards the squealing and gasping Teikō students. More and more of them were gathering and inching closer to the players, but still leaving more than enough space for the six to move around and play as if they were on a court.

“ _Sugoi! They’re so good!_ ” a girl squealed, hearts in her eyes.

“ _Man, they’re amazing! Hey, how are they split?_ “

The guy on the right answered, and it caught the teams’ attention again, “ _I think the Phantom Prince, the Emperor, and the Wild Knight are on the same team. But that’s no surprise. The Prince and the Wild Knight were always together . . . never seen a better duo, than them._ “

“ _Yeah, seems so. If they are, then their basket would be near the door,_ “ a third person said, “ _which means that the Celestial Knight, the Lazy Knight, and the Duke have their goal where the foreigners stand._ ”

The teams twitched at that, “Were we just called _foreigners_?“ Aida questioned disbelievingly.

“I’m more caught up on them calling Kuroko calling the _Phantom Prince_ ,“ Kagami admitted.

Hayama huffed, “Now that you mention it — when we arrived, they called Akashi an _Emperor_ . . .”

“They mentioned the _Lazy Knight_ and _Celestial Knight_ too, when we arrived,“ Himuro chimed in, “which means, if I had to guess, Atsushi and Midorima respectively. And yesterday . . . they said something about Kise being a _Duke_ or something?”

“Does anyone else feel like we’re _missing something_?“ Moriyama muttered. “I mean, the Miracles have really odd nicknames and we’re being ignored . . .“

Just then, there was a loud cheer from the Teikō students. The teams focused back on the on-the-spot game of the prodigies, only to find Akashi standing on the top of the stairs, the ball in hand as he smirked.

“Seems we win, Atsushi, Shintarō, Ryōta,“ he called. Suddenly, the students went deathly quiet.

The three aforementioned players groaned, Kise throwing his hands in the air, “Using Ankle Break is _not fair_ , Seicchi!”

“Is that so, Ryō?“ the quiet, yet still oddly powerful voice of Kuroko cut through the air. The spectating students seemed to fall even quieter, inching closer, “If I recall, you _did_ just try to copy Seijūrō three minutes ago.“

“Yeah, Ryō,“ Aomine agreed with a grin as he walked up to Kuroko, and they bumped fists again (this action made Kagami twitch even now, after he knew that the _Kiseki_ were still very close to one another — because Kuroko was _his_ teammate now). “Not our fault that you weren’t paying attention to Tetsu. You know best that he can stop you — stop all of us, if he wants to, but you were too focused on Sei. Too bad for you. This round’s ours.“

“How’s the score, Tsuki?“ Midorima called with a sigh, as he readjusted his glasses.

The manager hummed and glanced down at her clipboard ( _where_ did she get it from so suddenly?). “With this win going to them . . .“ she gestured at Aomine, “it means you guys are even on the mini games. Four-four wins to both teams.”

“Ah, well, I expected nothing less from Sei-chin and Tet-chin,“ Murasakibara shrugged.

Akashi sighed and nodded towards the door, “Let’s get inside, shall we?“

The teams moved from their spot, well aware of the whispers and restlessness of the Teikō students that gazed admiringly at the seven. They had just said that there were people who admired them, but this was still _odd_.

Fangirlish squeals followed the teams as they walked into the building. Just like yesterday, the _Kiseki_ and Momoi were a few steps ahead of them, leading the way.

Since they had come to the school wearing training clothes, no one had to bother with changing. They headed straight for the gym. Only half of the people filing into the gym were inside, when everyone’s attention was caught by a smaller group approaching them, all of them dressed in Teikō’s uniform.

“Where is he?“ they heard one of the approaching students speak.

“There!” another called triumphantly. “Kuroko-sempai, Kuroko-sempai! Would you spare us a moment?”

The teams, especially Seirin, blinked at the odd scene, since they hadn’t really thought that someone would spot the teal-haired boy so easily.

Kuroko stopped and nodded, “Ah, of course. How may I help?“ the teal-haired boy expertly danced out of the crowd, as the Teikō students approached. The moment the newcomers deemed Kuroko far enough from the “foreign“ teams, they encircled him excitedly, bowing deeply and chattering.

“Ah, sempai . . . may I have your autograph?”

“Can you sign my basketball please?“

“Ah, sempai, could you please help me . . .?“

“Phantom Prince . . . _sugoi_ , do you think you could help me . . .?“

As Kuroko drowned in the admiring looks, bows, and the enthusiastic questions of the younger generation, the Kiseki watched amused with Cheshire cat grins on all their faces. “Ah, the Phantom Fan Club. There are more of them than I remember, so I bet there are First Years among them too . . .“ Aomine snickered.

“ _Phantom Fan Club_?“ Seirin repeated in disbelief; several of Seirin’s players raised an eyebrow.

Akashi shooed the teams inside, “Get in, _get in_. They’re preoccupied with Tetsuya,” the others hurried into the gym, hearing the sharp tone of the redhead, and then the _Kiseki_ slipped inside as well. Murasakibara closed the door behind them and leaned against it with a huff.

“We survived,“ the Center muttered. “At least they were Tet-chin’s fans. They’re easy to handle.”

“ _Wait a second!_ ” Kagami flailed, “Since _when_ does Kuroko have his own Fan Club?! And _why_ the Hell do these kids call you odd names, like Prince and Duke and whatnot?!”

The Kiseki shared a look and then shrugged. “It’s a long-running joke in the school, I guess,“ Aomine said flippantly. “And honestly, since things started to get boring around the end of our Second Year, we all went with it. That’s all. As for Tetsu’s Fan Club . . . he’s the most approachable of us all, and he’s always ready to help other players, no matter how busy he is. So the others love him the most.”

Akashi hummed, “Yes, yes. Now, we have training to do. Tetsuya should be here soon, so we might as well start.“

Not complaining much, but still confused and bewildered as Hell, the teams went along with Akashi’s words. The redhead gave a short explanation of what the plan was for today. The explanation lasted about five minutes, and they were about to start the exercises themselves, when Kuroko slipped back in. (And to the astonishment of Seirin, the Kiseki immediately noticed Kuroko’s presence. Akashi even stopped mid-sentence.)

“Ah. All done, Tetsuya?“ the redhead called amused.

The Phantom sent Akashi a withering glare, which caused many of the players to shiver. “Quiet, Sei. Seriously, _stop looking so smug_. Do you know how long it took to sign all those shirts and basketballs?” He sighed, looking immeasurably and reluctantly fond. “I think I’ll have to leave you here once the First String makes it, because they roped me into leading their training today.”

The other _Kiseki_ snickered at that, earning themselves a glare from their Vice-captain. Even Akashi had to school his features into careful blankness, “Of course, Tetsuya. We’ve all had to deal with fans before, and I’m sure they’ll eventually get over the shock and come over to nag the rest of us a little, too. Besides, you’re the Vice-Captain, so it _is_ your duty to oversee their training.”

Kuroko’s face was still mostly blank, but the corners of his mouth were turned down, and his eyes were burning with cold fire. “I regret accepting the position.”

“I’m sorry, but resignation is not acceptable at this point, my _Prince_ ,“ Akashi said, smirking.

Kuroko’s eyes narrowed, and then he looked at the other four. “Do you four have something to say? No? Then, maybe you should be doing your _laps_. This is a _private_ conversation.”

Murasakibara and Kise squeaked, Aomine took a step back, and Midorima went completely blank-faced, green eyes widening. “Hai,“ they muttered under their breath. Sooner than someone could say “ _Teikō Chūgakkō_ ,” the four took off running.

Several people raised an eyebrow at the teal-haired player, impressed by the display of leadership. Meanwhile, Seirin suppressed a dreadful shiver at noticing the cold, dark aura radiating off of the Phantom. They all made a mental note to never piss Kuroko off.

Akashi and Kuroko’s “conversation,“ after the four took off, consisted of them staring at each other and narrowing their eyes. Suddenly, they simultaneously looked away, both of them scowling. They turned to stare at each other again, before Akashi sighed and rolled his eyes. He turned towards the teams, and, for a brief second, smugness flashed across the Shadow’s features.

“Let’s get started,” Akashi called.

* * *

Imayoshi twitched a little, making an effort not to bend over huffing, like many others were doing. The coach that designed Teikō’s training routine was no slouch, that’s for sure. Was this really a Middle School? He was older and more experienced than the kids attending this school and this club, and yet this routine was exhausting for _him_. Or had all the training been only based on Teikō’s routine, then changed a little to fit their higher stats? Probably, since that seemed the most reasonable thing to do. Still, even if the training had been changed and personalised . . . Teikō demanded a lot. This place probably wasn’t a walk in the park for the students actually studying here, either.

Kise and Kuroko looked the most exhausted out of the Miracles, but they were still surprisingly composed and _presentable_. It probably also helped that the two of them were still on their feet (even if they were leaning against the wall), unlike others who were sprawled on the ground — most notably Wakamatsu and Sakurai. Even Aomine looked winded as he leaned against the wall next to Kuroko.

“Man ... this is _bad_ ,“ Aomine groaned. “Looks like I’ll have to start taking this seriously again. This exercise shouldn’t have been as hard, as it was.”

Imayoshi’s lips twitched upwards at hearing that. Well, it seemed they would at least gain something from agreeing to this training camp. If Aomine took training just a bit more seriously than before, that was already something good.

Akashi looked at the clock that hung on the wall and waved his ex-teammates to their feet. “Pull yourselves together. The First String will be here in a minute or two. We can’t look so pathetic or we’ll never live that down.”

At those words, the other four huffed and stood to their full heights. They pushed themselves away from the wall, each straightening out their shirts and fixing up each other’s hair. He even noticed Momoi offering a hair tie to Murasakibara, which the Yōsen player took with a smile. He tied his long tresses into a small ponytail, showing off his sharp (and surprisingly handsome) features.

They all looked just a notch better when the door opened. Imayoshi noticed that Kuroko stood on Akashi’s right and Momoi on his left. Aomine and Kise stood next to each other, just a step behind Kuroko, while Midorima and Murasakibara stood behind Momoi. He blinked at that. An odd arrangement . . . but considering that Akashi was their Captain and Kuroko (as surprising and impossible as that sounded) was the Vice-cap, it made sense, he supposed. Aomine and Kise stood beside Kuroko since both of them had been close to Kuroko while on the team, having been partnered with or mentored by the teal, respectively. Again, that made sense. But still, _was_ there any reason for them standing like that or was it just random?

(No, no. It couldn’t have been _random_. Before the door had opened, they scrambled and flailed a little in order to stand as they stood now. They were orderly, composed and . . . _intimidating_ , yet there was also something _benevolent_ in them? Well, in Momoi-chan, Kise and Kuroko. The others looked plain unapproachable, just as Aomine had said the Club had always perceived them as.)

Ten players walked in, all of them dressed in loose training clothes like everyone else. But they all wore a Teikō sweater over their shirts. They stopped a few feet away from the Miracles, but there was nothing odd in that . . .

. . . until the brats knelt.

They **_knelt_ **in front of the _Kiseki_ (and Momoi-chan) as if the seven were some kind of royalty or something.

“All Hail the Miracles,” the first two kids said. (Imayoshi recognised the blonde one. Momoi had said he had become the Vice-Cap, so the black-haired one next to him had to be the Club’s new Captain.)

“All Hail,” the other eight echoed seriously.

He wasn’t one to curse too often, but . . .

_What. The. Flying. Fuck?!_

Imayoshi pinched himself, just to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. _Ouch._ It hurt, so no, he wasn’t dreaming. Was this some sort of prank Teikō and the Miracles had decided to play on them?

“All Hail Teikō,“ the seven Miracles returned, their tone even. Their faces were straight too. What the Hell?! _How could they keep a straight face when playing along with this craziness ... ?_

Imayoshi blinked, as Akashi made a careless gesture. “You may stand,” he ordered. The ten players stood up again in perfect sync. Then, as if nothing had happened, the redhead turned to Kuroko. “Tetsuya, I think you have something to oversee. Ryōta, Satsuki, please go with him. I’ll collect the data from here myself and then we’ll turn the papers in to kantoku later.”

Kuroko nodded, “Alright.“ Kuroko glanced at the two who were told to go with him. Momoi and Kise nodded to Kuroko, and they turned to leave. The Teikō players bowed to the three people passing by, while the three just smiled kindly at them.

Imayoshi took off his glasses, quickly cleaned them, and replaced them. He was done just in time to see the newcomers raise their heads from the bow, as the door clicked shut behind the three.

Aomine turned to Akashi, relaxed but alert at the same time, “Where do we start?”

Imayoshi pinched himself again. He had to be _dreaming_. Long-running joke, his _ass_... this seemed like something much, _much_ worse.

* * *

Even hours later, when Akashi finally deemed it time for a break to grab food, Hayama’s mind was still caught up on the scene they’d witnessed.

The Teikō players had knelt to Akashi and the _Kiseki_...

Hayama frowned a little, looking at his teammates. “Uh, don’t you think that was ... bizarre?”

Mibuchi smiled and waved him off, “Don’t stress over it. Remember? They said it was a joke ...“ he shrugged and they fell quiet again. Still, Hayama couldn’t get that scene out of his mind, and something about it bugged him.

But since his teammates didn’t think much about it, he ignored it all and instead decided to focus on not losing their guides. This school was pretty big. At the end of the corridor, there was a simple double door. Aomine looked back at the teams following him, gesturing at it, “That’s the canteen. Go ahead. The principal said we can eat here, and they split the break, there will be enough room for everyone to be able to eat, don’t worry.”

They all hurried their steps. Hayama couldn’t help but skip ahead. Tōō was in a hurry as well, so they dodged through the double doors easily. The canteen was full of students who were chatting in hushed whispers and eating. No one seemed to pay them any mind. He noticed the neatly placed tables with simple chairs. Everything was quite like how Rakuzan’s cafeteria looked.

Save for one thing.

In the middle, there was a table turned so the shorter sides faced the door. There were eight chairs placed around it. It was the only table which was draped in a pristine white table cloth. When he noticed that Teikō’s crest was sewn into the middle of it, Hayama blinked. Huh, _odd_.

But what was even odder were the chairs. The chair that faced away from the entrance was draped with a soft pink cloth. The seat opposite that — whoever sat there would be able to see everyone who entered — was draped in blood red. To the left of the red chair, the three more chairs were placed on the side. The seat closest to the red was draped with a light blue-and-black cloth. The middle one was covered in dark blue and the last one, between the pink and the dark blue, was draped in green. Opposite the light blue-and-black chair was a seat which was draped in rainbow-coloured cloth. Next to the rainbow coloured one, and opposite the dark blue, was a seat covered in a yellow cloth. Between the yellow and the pink was a purple seat.

Odd. Something bugged him about the colour choice, but he couldn’t figure out _what_.

Wakamatsu’s eyes stopped on the fancy table, and then he sauntered over. Tōō followed him calmly. Only Sakurai seemed to hesitate, saying something about this table probably being meant for their coaches or teachers, but Wakamatsu in his _eternal wisdom_ [ _note the **heavy** sarcasm_] chose to ignore the apologetic Shooting Guard.

The Kiseki entered with the other teams as well, and the students looked up at them. The students looked at the fancy table and then at the Kiseki. Then they looked back at the table, where Tōō — save for Imayoshi, because he hadn’t been in such a hurry — was sitting.

“Oh, that table seems oddly elegant for a canteen... Shirogane-kantoku remarked off-handedly, and Hayama had to agree with the man.

Suddenly, the canteen exploded in protests, the students glaring fiercely at Tōō. “Hey, you fuckers, that table’s taken!“

“Get off there, that’s not yours!”

“ _Heathens_ , those are for the Court!”

Those words and other similar cries filled the room. Hayama could do nothing but watch in morbid fascination as the chaos unfolded. The students rose like waves from the sea. Several of them grabbed the Tōō team members sitting there and dragged them from their seats, throwing cold, murderous looks at them. 

(Court? What did the brats mean by _Court_? Seriously, Middle School slang was so _confusing..._ )

“What the Hell?!” Wakamatsu called, as he wrenched himself from three Teikō students’ grasp.

For a moment, chaos took over the whole place. Even their coaches could only watch, perplexed, like everyone else. The _Kiseki_ , swift and elegant on their feet, moved forward. Aomine scowled at his Vice-Captain, but his dark blue eyes were glinting with mirth, “Haven’t you _heard_ , Wakamatsu? The table’s _taken_.”

The seven of them each moved behind a specific seat. Akashi took the red one, Aomine the dark blue one, Kuroko the black-and-light blue...

Hayama’s eyes went wide with understanding. The freaking seats were colour-coded for each _Kiseki_! (Who sat on the rainbow one? That one remained empty. He only knew of six Miracles — plus they counted Momoi-san as the seventh.) Still, that was only _seven_ , not eight...

The Kiseki settled into their seats, and Akashi muttered something to the Teikō kid closest to him. His bi-coloured eyes swept the room, and he flashed a charming, stage-smile at the younger students. “It’s quite alright. We could have handled it, but thank you.”

The students muttered something about “disrespect“ and “court“, but Hayama couldn’t hear most of it, much less understand it and what had just happened. Then, Kuroko, Akashi, and Momoi stood up to retrieve their food. When they returned with their trays and sat down, the other four stood in turn.

Hayma blinked, still frozen where he stood. By the looks of it, he certainly wasn’t the only one. “What the _Hell_?!” Kaijō’s Captain choked.

Hayama looked at his teammates who looked just as taken aback as he was.

Numbed by the odd happenings of the day — for the second time in less than four hours — he moved to get a tray for himself and find an empty seat. The _Kiseki_ chatted among each other quietly, as if having a specific table for themselves — _fancy, customised, and all_ — in the middle of the goddamn school canteen was the most _normal_ thing in the world.

What the Hell was with Teikō?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, please leave comments and tell me what you think. Comments make my world go round~! 😁
> 
> Also, here is a pic how the Kiseki are seated in the canteen, in case my description was crappy and hard to understand. It´s colour-coded, so it shouldn´t be hard to figure out, which seat belongs to whom. Hope this makes it easier to understand, in case there was some confusion.  
> https://postimg.cc/LhTn7p6q


	3. 𝓗𝓮 (𝓣𝓱𝓮𝔂), 𝓦𝓱𝓸 𝓘𝓼 (𝓐𝓻𝓮) 𝓐𝓫𝓼𝓸𝓵𝓾𝓽𝓮

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Akashi’s little rant further encourages Teikō (“All Hail the Emperor!”) and the teams are starting to notice more and more, that something is _not normal._  
>  And Kazunari finally gets his hands on something he had wanted for ages.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Betaed on 10/02/2021  
> Thank you for all your hard work @Stef :)

Mibuchi tried his best to disregard the starry-eyed girls and the boys that bowed as they passed. Akashi was smiling — a tiny, benevolent smile that made the girls swoon, one of them even falling to her knees and confessing her undying love for the redhead — and waving at them, occasionally stopping to give someone an autograph. This was not natural. This _could not_ be normal — he had to be in some sort of absurd nightmare. Looking at his teammates (where was Shirogane-kantoku when he was needed?), he realised they were as weirded out as he was. Great.

It seemed only Akashi, or rather all the ex-Teikō students, were the only ones who had lost their mind. (Okay, so their Captain had always been strange and intimidating, but this was a new sort of _weird_ , even for Akashi.) Mibuchi grimaced, looking at Akashi, “Sei-chan, stop encouraging them. This is not normal.”

Akashi just waved him off, as they walked towards the door, “Don’t think much of it, Reo,“ he said, his tone low, as he moved closer to Mibuchi, separating himself from the Teikō students. “It’s just play-pretend. Nothing serious, really. Why? What do you think this is?“

Mibuchi frowned. He still couldn’t forget that fancy table in the canteen that was “reserved“ for the seven returnees. “I don’t know. Lunacy. A cult. I don’t know. But it’s not. . .”

Akashi’s eyes narrowed, frowning just a little. The corridor fell deathly quiet suddenly, and everyone was watching them, which made the Rakuzan members uncomfortable. But Akashi was ignoring it all. His voice rose with every word, clear and powerful in the sudden silence.

“Now, now, sempai. Several of these students are the supporters and acquaintances of all seven of us. They are people who motivated us and whose dreams and hopes we guard in return, as Tetsuya had said. They are people whom we helped and got helped by in return, people whom we ate with, whom we shared gossip with. I _don’t_ like you calling them lunatics. They are people who have supported us through our endeavours as a team. It was thanks to Teikō’s excellent coaching and the support of these students that we could achieve what we achieved. Teikō was — **_is_** a home to us, in a way, and you are all _outsiders_ here. You’re here because Teikō wanted the seven of us here for the anniversary celebration. You’re our _guests_ , so do not think you can get away with talking down on anyone who wore, or currently wears, Teikō’s uniform. For once of Teikō is always of Teikō.”

Akashi took a step closer, and Mibuchi’s eyes went wide. A moment later, the Shooting Guard was on his knees. Akashi’s hand rested softly on his shoulder, but his heterochromatic eyes narrowed dangerously. “I am absolute. Your head is held too high, Reo. I do not appreciate you talking down on the other _Kiseki_ — my **_siblings_ **, nor do I appreciate you talking down on Teikō and her students. Am I clear?“

Mibuchi swallowed hard. The rest of Rakuzan looked disturbed as well, ready to flee. Mibuchi blanched, but didn’t answer. Akashi’s eyes narrowed even more, the faint touch turning into a steady pressure on his Vice-captain’s shoulder.

 _“Am I clear, Reo?“_ he asked again, his tone chilling.

Mibuchi nodded, swallowing hard, “Ha— Hai, Akashi.”

Akashi gave him one last judgmental stare and then turned on his heels, walking away slowly. The previously deathly quiet students broke out in cheers, their chanting echoing all around them.

“All Hail the Emperor!”

“Akashi-sama!”

“Once of Teikō is always of Teikō!”

“All Hail the Emperor! All Hail the Emperor! All Hail the Emperor!” Rakuzan watched numbly, as their Captain walked ahead amidst the cheering and bowing Teikō students.

Mibuchi staggered to his feet. Hayama’s green eyes were wide with disbelief and fear. “ _Wh-What is this place?_ “ the Small Forward choked out, shivering, as the now-quiet students’ piercing eyes fell upon them, dissecting them in hundreds of ways, all because they were intrusive “foreigners“ in their little empire.

* * *

Hyūga grunted when they finally finished for the day. Hell, this training schedule was tougher than the one Riko created for them back at Seirin. His eyes darted around, noticing that everyone was as spent as he was. Kagami’s chest was heaving as he lay sprawled on the floor, his sweaty clothes stuck to his form. Not that Hyūga was in any better shape. His lungs burned with the effort of breathing normally.

Damn, Akashi — and _Kuroko too_ — were damn slave-drivers. But wait, _how_ in the name of the gods had _Kuroko_ been put in charge of their training?! Because apparently Kuroko had been put in charge of the training. Or, at least, he was put in charge of the sessions where Teikō’s First String was also present.

Oh, wait! **_That’s_ ** how Kuroko ended up in charge of their training — to the astonishment of both teams. Because the Teikō students were present, and the brats, as well as Murasakibara, had all refused to comply with Riko’s and Araki-san’s instructions.

After about ten minutes of utter chaos — and Riko almost strangling a First String member — Kuroko had had enough. The teal had stepped up, oozing authority and power in a way which Hyūga had never seen him display before. That . . . the dangerous, commanding aura Kuroko had radiated. . . it was foreign. And it was way too close for comfort to what he had felt from the Rakuzan Captain. His aura was cold and disturbing.

Hyūga was sure that the scene would forever be burned into his mind.

_Hyūga sighed as the verbal fight started again. Kagami was dissing the Teikō kids. It wasn’t exactly a good idea, since the younger players were in their “home territory,” in a sense. They were just guests here. Yōsen was struggling to make Murasakibara, who had plopped down on the bench, comply. But he just kept clutching his snacks, too lazy to move._

_Riko and Kiyoshi were trying to prevent Kagami from strangling the kids, while Fukui was trying to drag Murasakibara to stand up. This time not even Himuro could make the giant move, despite the promise of sweets. So yes. Instead of training, they were bickering. It was complete chaos, and it seemed like Yōsen’s coach, despite being a seemingly patient person, was about to snap._

**_“Enough.”_ **

_The single word cut through the chaos like a hot knife cut through butter. It sent a shiver down his spine. All eyes turned towards its source and Hyūga did too. It was Kuroko._

_The Phantom stood tall and proud, more visible than he’s ever been, since the very first time Hyūga had met the enigmatic First Year._

_“Kagami-kun, please release Yoshinori-kun and Kiyoshi-sempai. . .“ even before Kuroko could finish the sentence, Kiyoshi took his hands off of the Teikō player that he’d been trying to hold back from strangling Kagami. Kiyoshi gave Kuroko an apologetic smile and raised his hands in surrender. He took a step back, putting some distance between himself and everyone else._

_Hyūga blinked at the odd, mulish expression on his friend’s face, as Kiyoshi gazed at Kuroko. He dipped his head in . . . an almost respectful(?) way. “Ah, gomen’nasai, Kuroko-kun. I wouldn’t want to make your duties harder.”_

_Hyūga blinked. W-what? What was with that odd tone from his friend? Hyūga glanced at Kuroko, who gave a barely noticeable nod in response. But even that seemed somehow . . . regal._

_“It’s quite alright,“ the Phantom stated, his tone as flat as ever. Next, his eyes settled on the Teikō players. “We have returned for a visit that does not mean you can slack off. Please return to your training.”_

_The kid, who had been held by Kagami — Yoshinori, if he heard Kuroko right — flailed an odd expression on his face. It was a mix of anger, indignation and wariness, if Hyūga had to make a guess. “But Kuroko-sempai, he dared to . . . !” the kid protested, while his teammates pointed glares at Kagami._

_Kuroko waved him off, “That’s how Kagami-kun is, Yoshinori-kun. Ignore him for now and return to your training. It would be most upsetting if we didn’t get to finish what we had planned for today. There’s no room for improvement without proper effort.”_

_The Teikō kids shared a look, and then all of them took a step back to put some distance between themselves and Kagami. Kuroko nodded approvingly, “Good. I’m glad we share that sentiment. Please proceed with five rounds around the gym.”_

_This time, there was no hesitation before following the orders they were given, Hyūga noted._

_The shrimps_ **_bowed_ ** _to Kuroko — deeply too, as if he were some noble. “Hai, sempai,” and then, neatly, paired by some unspoken rule, the players ignored Kagami and started running. Kuroko eyed them for a moment, before he walked up to Murasakibara and firmly, yet gently, tugged the pack of maiobu from his grasp._

_“That will be quiet enough, Atsushi. We have some training to do.“_

_“But Tet-chin . . .“_

_“_ **_Atsushi_ ** _. I believe we already had this conversation this morning when everyone was present. We have an example to set, remember? Please start training. The sooner you finish our usual routines, the sooner you can return to your snacks.”_

_Murasakibara hummed and stood up, “Promise no one will eat them?“_

_Kuroko nodded, “No one will touch them. Anyone who tries . . . I’ll personally snap their wrist.“_

_Hyūga swallowed hard, and a shiver ran down his spine. Kuroko’s tone was frosty. Something told him that, despite his fragile appearance, the blue-haired player had enough strength in him to succeed in snapping a wrist as promised. Given the way some of the others looked at Kuroko . . . Hyūga guessed they’d come to the same conclusion he had._

_“Your usual twelve rounds, please,“ Kuroko repeated._

_Murasakibara nodded, “Okay, Tet-chin.” With that, Murasakibara turned around and started running, following the same path as the other students._

_Hyūga could only gape at the usually quiet, reserved boy in shock. What . . . just happened?_

_“What the fuck Kuro — ”_

_“_ **_Quiet_ ** _, Kagami-kun,“ Kuroko warned, narrowing his eyes._

 _Hyūga shivered, taking a step back, away from Kuroko’s stare. (Note to self,_ **_NEVER_ ** _piss off Kuroko Tetsuya.) Even Araki-san was studying Kuroko with some wariness. Kagami clamped his mouth shut with a soft click._

 _“Now, please_ **_stay_ ** _quiet for the duration of the training and proceed. Twelve rounds for everyone, like for Atsushi.“_

_“But — ” Kagami tried again, flailing, and Hyūga wondered if the redhead had a death wish. Kuroko was obviously in a bad mood today._

_“The Prince said something,_ **_outsider_ ** _,“ one of the Teikō kids called sharply, glaring at Kagami. “His word is the Emperor’s word and the Emperor’s words are absolute. In short, you do as the Prince said.“_

 _Hyūga twitched. The Emperor — Akashi. He was a hundred percent sure by now that when they said that they meant_ **_Akashi_ ** _. But why the Hell couldn’t they use names, like every sane person would? (Also, the word “outsider“ had been bit out as if it were the dirtiest word of the entire universe . . . )_

_The Teikō students gave them withering looks. Then they turned and continued running as if nothing had happened. Murasakibara appeared too, glaring at everyone. “Move. Tet-chin’s word is Sei-chin’s word. And Sei-chin and Tet-chin have been trusted by our coaches to oversee the training._ _Sei-chin’s word is absolute. That means Tet-chin’s word is too.”_

_Hyūga groaned. Teikō . . . this place had to be on another planet. He refused to believe that this was still Earth. Or if it was Earth . . . then this had to be a different dimension. Damn it, the Teikō kids did everything the Kiseki told them to . . . and_ **_damn it!_ ** _Kuroko had been (still was?) the Vice-Captain of the strongest Middle School Basketball team and club in the entire country and_ **_they hadn’t known!_ **

_Plus, what was with this “absolute“ talk?_

_“Come on, Junpei . . . we wouldn’t want trouble, now would we?“ Kiyoshi asked and then nudged him along._

_Himuro eyed Kuroko for a moment, and then he joined the runners too, looking back at Kagami. “Hurry up, Taiga!”_

_Hyūga groaned and threw one last glance at Kuroko — whose eyes were still narrowed, his stance still regal and oozing power — before starting to run. Teppei nudged him, and Hyūga hurried up, but not before glaring at his friend. “What?!”_

_The Center shrugged, “The Kiseki are . . . at home here. Do as they say. That’ll be better for us all.”_

_Hyūga opened his mouth to say something, but then his friend hurried up and purposefully left him behind._

_Damn it. Damn Kiyoshi Teppei and his damnable riddles!_

Following that mess, Kuroko had been in charge of their training for the day, leaving Araki-san and Riko speechless and sitting on the bench, doing nothing but staring in utter astonishment at the lack of respect for them and their authority.

But they were finally done.

Hyūga huffed and looked up. What he found puzzled him and pissed him off at the same time. Sure, Kuroko had lower stamina than the rest of them, so training was always tailored for him . . . okay, so Kuroko sitting out now wasn’t the problem. They had done twelve rounds, and Kuroko did eight, which was already more than what Riko approved of. But the Phantom had brushed her off, saying he knew his limits better than she. (Riko fumed at that, but she didn’t dare to speak up against the teal — not after the scene before.)

Kuroko was already on the bench, but him resting wasn’t what bothered Hyūga. What made his eye twitch was when a black-haired girl walked up to Kuroko, all smiles and sparkles, and brought him a glass of something. Hyūga didn’t know what was in it, but he could clearly see the tantalising ice cubes floating in it, a piece of orange, and a small, colourful paper parasol.

“Refreshment, My Prince?“ the girl asked kindly.

Kuroko hummed and offered the girl a small smile, as he took it. “Ah, thank you, Hashira-san.“

“Thanks,“ another voice drawled from a little farther away. Hyūga’s eyes twitched more violently this time. Another girl was standing in front of Murasakibara and offering him the same drink — with the ice and nice décor.

Then the girl who’d brought Kuroko’s drink looked up at him shyly. “Aah, Lady Momoi wanted to speak with you,“ she said. “She said it was important, and that you should find the Emperor. Or, at least, alert the Celestial Knight.”

Kuroko nodded, “Ah, alright. I’ll find Satsuki in a moment. Then I’ll speak with Seijūrō and Shintarō both. Thank you, Hashira-san.”

Hyūga felt his whole body twitch when both girls bowed to the boys and slipped out. They whispered and giggled to each other, something about handsome “knights“ and “princes.” The slurping that echoed through the goddamn gym as the two Miracles consumed their chilled drinks was an even bigger blow.

_What the colourful, fucking Hell was going on here?!_

* * *

Kazunari Takao knew something was up when Kise and Shin-chan both dropped training (after a girl appeared, whispered something to them, and then left) and ran out of the gym. “We’ll be back soon, it's an emergency!” Kise cried over his shoulder.

Kazunari shared a look with his teammates — as Kasamatsu Yukio was grumbling about Miracles and their detestable habit of skipping practice. They peaked out the door, only to spot Kuroko and Murasakibara leaving the other gym as well, obviously also in a hurry. Something was up. The others shrugged and went back to doing their exercises, as the coach ordered them back to work.

Kazunari however, couldn’t do so, because the scene of the Miracles hurrying away had sparked his curiosity. It was not something he thought he’d ever see. They looked like they were getting ready for the end of the world.

Stealing a glance at the teams, he slipped out the gym door and tiptoed after the four. They hurried down the corridor, clearly distracted, but he made sure to stay far away just in case, so they wouldn’t notice he was following them. Something was up here, and he wanted to know what.

He noticed Aomine, Momoi and Akashi arriving from the other side of the corridor. The seven of them slipped into the same room, the door closing behind them. With it closed, he could slip closer to have a look. The small metal plate on the door made it clear which room it was.

_Student Council._

N-Nani? But they were no longer students of Teikō. So technically, they couldn’t be part of the Student Council. What was going on? He wanted — no, he _needed_ to know. He looked around and noticed that in the other corridor, there was a long window high up. Conveniently, there was also a table below it, with some flyers placed on it. If he could stand on it, he’d be able to peek into the room.

Grinning devilishly, Kazunari cleared the table of the flyers and like a bad student — which he wasn’t — he climbed onto the table and stood up. Ah, it was the perfect height! He had a clear view of the room.

And . . . well, it was orderly, like every Student Council room. . . but it was also nothing like any other he’d seen before.

There were two tables placed next to each other, so it looked like a single, long one. Around those tables, there were seven chairs, each draped in the same coloured fabrics as the chairs in the canteen. The table(s) and the seats were on a small, raised wooden podium. The seat in the middle was red. To it’s right was a light blue one and then yellow and dark blue. To the red’s left was a green one, then pink and then purple. He could take _a very good_ guess, which colour was for which Miracle.

He craned his neck, just a little, to have a better view. He saw Shin-chan and his ex-teammates take a seat in the chairs that had their “trademark“ colours. Other students filed in as well and . . . well, it was student council, yet it wasn’t. (They spoke just loud enough for him to hear and understand.) The Miracles helped solve their problems and handled every school-related conflict with that frightening, yet breathtaking elegance and efficiency which they displayed during basketball matches and training.

The students leaving the room were smiling, relieved, and even happily skipping, which just made him admire them even more. They were fair and kind, yet strict. They treated every person from Teikō equally, treated the students as if they were their own, and, in turn, the Teikō students treated them the same way, even if they no longer attended this school.

And frankly?

They looked kickass in their colourful chairs, calm and composed. Maybe even more kickass, than on the court . . . Okay, no nevermind. Shin-chan’s high-arc shots were still amazing to watch, even after having seen the move hundreds of times. He also had to admit that Kuroko Tetsuya — the one whom he’d been the most sceptical about, and had even disliked, had ended up impressing him the most. No one had ever disappeared from his Hawk-Eye before — not the way Kuroko had.

He should be upset with them. He should have been upset when he met Shin-chan on his second day at Shūtoku. Teikō had beaten his Middle School too — with a three-digit number, no less. But even then, they’d been amazing. His teammates had been downtrodden and bitter, but the way Teikō had played only fired up his spirit.

He could see the fire in their eyes now — their blazing passion for basketball. Even after that crushing loss, Kazunari wanted to be like those six. Now that he had become so close to Shin-chan, and he knew the others a little better . . . knowing how much they meant to Shin-chan . . .

. . . how they swore to protect their basketball and guide younger players. . .

Yep, Kazunari Takao had made up his mind. Now, more than ever, he wanted to be like those six.

He slowly shifted and sat down on the table, just as a girl in a Teikō uniform came around the corner carrying a box. She gasped when she noticed him and dropped the box. His blue eyes went wide, and he slipped from his seat to help her.

“W-What are you doing here?“ she hissed, panic and anger mixing into her tone. “There’s a council meeting! They shouldn’t be disturbed . . . besides, aren’t you a little too old . . . ?”

He waved at her, “Ah, ah, relax,“ he hushed her quietly. “I’m from Shūtoku Kōkō. We came here because your school invited the _Kiseki_ , and I’m waiting on Shin-chan. He said I could wait out here.“ (Okay, no. That was a lie, because he’d snuck his way here, but she didn’t need to know _that_.)

Her brows furrowed in confusion, “Who’s _Shin-chan_?“

Kazunari grinned and shook his head. Didn’t the kids here know the Miracles by name? Or did they just use those damn weird titles all the time? “Midorima Shintarō,“ he clarified.

Her eyes went almost comically wide, “W-wait . . . the Celestial Knight . . . he . . . he lets you call him _that_?“

Kazunari shrugged as he picked up the box for her. It was surprisingly light. “We’re on the same team. And classmates too. And roommates in the dorm, as well. You could say he’s my best friend.“

“ _Sugoi~!_ You’re so lucky!”

Kazunari couldn’t help the small snicker that escaped him when he heard her speak the last word. After all, it was Shin-chan’s favourite word, if he had to guess. Or the second favourite, after “basketball.” Though with how Tsundere he was, the Shooting Guard would never admit that.

“Yeah, I know. What’s in this?“

She eyed him for a moment and then shrugged, “Merchandise. For the celebration.”

“Can I have a peek?“

She seemed unsure for a moment and then nodded, placing the box on the desk. She opened the box, and he blinked.

Once. Twice. Thrice.

He couldn’t help, but coo, “Sugoi! I’ve been looking for these plushies on the internet for ages now!”

Inside the box, there were six different plush figures. Namely, miniature, cute versions of the _Kiseki_ , all of them dressed in their Teikō jersey with a basketball in hand.

“Are you part of their fan club?“ she asked innocently.

The Shooting Guard shrugged, “Kinda? I don’t know. I like them. Shin-chan is nice and helpful. Well, when he’s in a good mood. And Tet-chan . . . ah, Kuroko-kun is just plain adorable. But I don’t think I officially signed up or anything . . .”

She pouted at him, looking jealous for a moment when she realised he called two of the six by nicknames, but then she brightened up, “Would you like to join? And since you’re the Celestial Knight’s teammate, I’ll give you his plushie as a welcome gift.“

Kazunari hummed for a moment and then glanced at the box, “You got me. But . . . you know what? I’ll take one of each. I’ll pay for them too.”

She seemed surprised for a moment and then brightened up, “Ah, alright. But I still insist you take one of the plushies free of charge, as a fellow fan.”

She dug out a white and blue paper bag from the very bottom of the box. Kazunari watched with glee as she placed one of each plushie into the bag. Damn, these looked even cuter than in the photos!

“Here. You owe 200 yen, and don’t worry all of this will go to a good place. For charity.“

He paid for his merchandise and raised an eyebrow, “Ch-charity? How come?“

“Oh, didn’t you know? The six of them were always charitable to us. And the Lord taught them well. They kept his teachings in their heart, I know that much.“

He raised an eyebrow, “Lord? Is there someone I don’t know about? I mean . . . I noticed the eighth seat . . .“

She nodded, “Yep, that’s for him. The ex-Captain, and the Lord Regent, who raised our Court.”

He hummed, “Ah, I see. Does this benevolent Lord have a name?“

“Nijimura Shōzo,“ she smiled. “He was kind, yet strict. A lot like the Emperor . . . but still different. Well, he was good for us all. The Miracles are his legacy, I guess. Whenever we see them, we remember him as well.“

Kazunari nodded, “Well, thank you,“ he picked up his paper bag. “Thanks for the plushies and the info.“

She smiled at him widely, “Think nothing of it. But — don’t show this around much. I shouldn’t have sold them to you yet. They’re for the celebration. I made an exception because . . . well, the Knight . . .“

He nodded seriously, “Don’t worry, I’ll keep them a secret.”

She nodded. “All Hail the Miracles,“ she said and then turned to leave.

Kazunari grinned at hearing the Fan Club’s words, _“All Hail the Miracles.”_

He couldn’t help but skip happily towards the gym. Inside the room, where the Student Council still had their hands full, Midorima felt a sudden, dreadful chill run down his spine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, please leave comments and tell me what you think. Comments make my world go round! :3
> 
> Also, here is how the Kiseki plushies look like. The art does not belong to me.  
> https://www.deviantart.com/fishydotlove/art/KnB-Kiseki-no-Sedai-Keychains-332870540


	4. 𝓦𝓮𝓵𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓱𝓮 “𝓒𝓵𝓾𝓫”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Himuro gets overwhelmed by the cuteness of plushies and joins the ~~sect~~ club. Wherein Kiyoshi reminiscensing reveals how it all started...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is flashback in the chapter with bigger space and written in _italics_. Bold words among italics means emphasis.  
> Two people speaking together/at the same time, is written in **bold**.
> 
> Beta read/corrected by @Stef on 12/02/2021. Stef, thank you for your hard work! You did wonders again, thank you for putting up with my clumsiness! :3

Himuro Tatsuya sighed tiredly as everyone dragged their feet out of the gym. Damn it, this training was going to kill them before the two weeks were up. He had thought that Yōsen’s training was made to kill students. But scratch that. If what the Generals were saying was true, Rakuzan was even worse than that. But this... _this was Hell_.

According to Mibuchi, Akashi was always strict with them, and all their training sessions were like these — long and tiring.

He sighed again as he trailed behind Yōsen. Atsushi had gone off with the other Miracles, saying something about post-training traditions and popsicles. But honestly, Himuro had been so tired that half of it had escaped him. Hyūga even had to kick Taiga awake, so Himuro didn’t even bother asking his childhood friend about going out to eat together.

So he had nowhere to go. Not that he really planned on going anywhere. The only destination he had in mind was their hotel room. He could take a nice, hot shower and have a date with his fluffy pillow...

His thought process was interrupted when he noticed a few students excitedly chatting as they turned down a corridor, carrying a few boxes. That in itself wasn’t strange, since they were preparing an anniversary celebration — something about the _Kiseki_ winning a Nationals and being recognized country-wide as prodigies, or whatnot.

What did catch his attention was when he noticed a certain Shūtoku player helping the Teikō students, talking a mile a minute. The students inched closer and listened intently as if Kazunari were their favourite teacher. It was kind of odd... but not necessarily surprising.

He’d seen more than enough weirdness in the past few days since they arrived. Still... why would Kazunari be with the Teikō kids? He should’ve gone back to the hotel with Shūtoku, no?

“Himuro?“ his coach called.

Himuro blinked up at her and then nodded towards the students. “I’ve just noticed something. Seems the Teikō kids have their hands full with the festival celebration preparations and I’ve seen Kazunari helping out. Do you mind if I stick around? Maybe I could help out?“

His coach eyed him for a moment and then nodded, “Go along, if you like. Just don’t forget that you need rest. There’s still a while until the festival, and until then, this _is_ a training camp.”

Himuro nodded, “Of course, kantoku,“ the woman gave him one last glance and then walked after the team.

Wasting no time, Himuro whirled on his heels and strode down the corridor, intending to catch up with the Shūtoku student. He didn’t manage to catch up, per se, but he did see when Kazunari ducked through a doorway — probably into a club room or something. He could hear some excited chatter from inside the room, which piqued his interest even more.

Shrugging to himself, he approached and tapped on the door. “Hello?“

Peeking inside, he noticed several desks arranged around the room. All of them were full of boxes and bags. There was a desk farther away from the rest, which had some snacks and drinks on it. There was a projection screen pulled down, and he saw an old picture projected onto it. Atsushi and the rest of the Miracles were in it with medals hung around their necks and grins on their faces. They looked younger too.

“Himuro?“

He perked up at the call of his name and noticed Kazunari blinking confusedly at him. He waved carelessly at the other. “Hello. What’s in here? Preparation for the festival? Can I join?“

At the word “join“ a huge grin spread across Kazunari’s face, and he bounced towards Himuro. “Ah, not exactly preparations, but something like that. Maybe. It’s a Club.”

Himuro hummed, “Club, you say? But why are you here, then?“ his eyes swept the room again, and he noticed Kiyoshi was there too. Seirin’s Center waved at him lazily and then turned to continue talking to one of the kids in the Teikō uniforms, while raising his mug to his mouth. Said mug was white. But if Himuro was seeing things right... it had a picture of the _Kiseki_ printed on it — the same picture which was displayed on the projector.

“Ah well... they kinda made me — and Kiyoshi too — “ he gestured at the Seirin player, “honorary members. Well, honorary Teikō students and thus, official members of the Club.”

Himuro blinked, “I see... And what’s this club exactly?“

“Lots of fun and cuteness,“ Kazunari grinned, “and damn informative about the Miracles. Did you know that Akashi and Shin-chan used to dress up in lab coats when they came up with healthy snacks for Murasakibara?“

Himuro blinked. The mental image of the two prideful and intimidating Miracles being dressed like scientists was hilarious. He had to swallow hard to stop himself from laughing out loud. “W-what?”

Kazunari nodded and then dragged him inside. “Yep. Aaaand apparently Akashi and Tet-chan could — and still _can_ make Murasakibara listen to them and eat normally.”

Himuro froze, “What? Such a thing is _possible_ ? I mean, he listened to Kuroko, but making him eat _normally_...“

The Shūtoku student nodded, “Yep, so it seems.”

“I’ll have to ask them for tips. I like Murasakibara, but sometimes he acts like a child,” he muttered to himself, making a mental note to seek out Kuroko once they were finished here. Kuroko was around Taiga a lot, so maybe it was safer to seek out the Phantom than the scary Captain. (He acknowledged Akashi’s skills as a leader and player, but _damn_. The guy was goddamn creepy and intimidating.)

“Ah, and Kise was mentored by Tet-chan. It appears Tet-chan’s more than what he seems...”

Himuro could only blink and listen to Kazunari’s excited chatter, as the Power Guard bombarded him with information about the _Kiseki_. As Kazunari spoke, he dragged Himuro over to the desk where the food and drinks had been placed. One of the Teikō kids walked up to them.

As it turned out, he was the one who’d led them into the building the first day. He was the Vice-cap of the team, succeeding Kuroko. And that fact too was still hard to grasp. A quiet individual like Kuroko, who was not even acknowledged by most people as a Miracle, was the (in)famous team’s Vice-Captain. _Wow_.

“I feel like Taiga doesn’t give Kuroko enough credit,“ he said, as the two students stopped speaking. “I mean, Taiga says he’s Kuroko’s new ‘Light,’ but his team didn’t even know he’d been the Vice-captain, so that makes me wonder.”

“Not to offend your friend,“ the Teikō student piped up, “but he is a full-fledged member of our team, and he led us to victory. He was the Vice-captain, but sometimes when we had smaller matches, with the Second/Third String players participating, he acted as the Captain. He couldn’t use his abilities as well with us as with the other Miracles. The Miracles are _better_ than us... but despite that he led us to victory.”

Himuro nodded, “Well, I think we’ve seen enough these last few days for me to believe it. I mean... Atsushi’s my teammate. And I care for him — we’re friends after all — but damn... sometimes he’s hard to deal with. Kuroko dealt with him so easily... I envy him for that. And Akashi too. As impressive as they are, it’s not their skills on the court that I envy, but how they handle Atsushi. Damn, they should teach me the tricks...”

Kazunari shrugged, “Maybe they’ll help you out if you ask _very_ nicely?“

Himuro hummed thoughtfully, “Yes.“ 

He ate and drank a little and then wandered around the room, looking at the many items of merchandise scattered around. Shirts, mugs, keychains, plushies...

 _Stop_. Plushies?

He backpedalled to have a better look. He couldn’t help the tiny squeal that escaped his lips. “ _Cute~!_ ”

The girl who was unwrapping them looked up with a smile. “They’ll be sold at the festival with everything else here. The money gained from the sales will go to charity because that’s how the Miracles always did it. They organised a similar day when they attended the school, and all the money went to charity — things like helping kids, kindergartens, and other schools.”

Himuro hummed, “Ah, yet another thing I didn’t know about them? Do you have any more surprising information on those six?“

The girl smiled, “Ah, go watch the video,“ she gestured behind his back, towards where Himuro knew the projection screen was.

And Himuro did. He ended up sitting down and watching the video about the _Kiseki_ which the Teikō students had made. By the time the film was finished, the Yōsen student’s eyes were wide with admiration. “I didn’t know they were like _this_. I... I want to be like them!”

“Everyone here wants to be like them,“ Kiyoshi pointed out. Himuro’s eyes snapped over to the Seirin player, and he raised an eyebrow.

“Huh? I heard from Hyūga that they beat your school pretty badly? How come you joined the Club?“

* * *

Kiyoshi eyed the Yōsen student for a moment before he answered, “After our match, I had an encounter with Kuroko. I’m not sure if he remembers it... he didn’t act like he _remembered_ when we first met at Seirin... but I’m certain I will never forget.”

_Kiyoshi sat in the locker room, struggling with his despair, as he remembered the score._

**_148 — 51_ **

_They’d been crushed. Teikō had been toying with them. Their efforts had been for nothing. It... perhaps it wasn’t even the loss that hurt the most, but their Center’s words. What was his name again? Ah, yes. Murasakibara Atsushi._

_It was scary. Not only was the other player taller than him... no, the difference in their build wasn’t what scared him the most. What scared him the most was the way Murasakibara had batted away most of their efforts to score. How he had mocked them all by leaving his post and moving to lead Teikō’s offence. He couldn’t even recall which of them had stayed back to fill in the Center’s vacated post... perhaps the green-haired one?_

_He sighed, shifting a little, to lean his back against the wall and gazed at the ceiling. The locker room’s silence was welcome, yet it also filled him with dread. “No matter what you said... I won’t give up. You won the match, but you would only be the victors, if I quit basketball like you said and I refuse,“ he murmured. “I love basketball. You may be better than me, Murasakibara... but I love basketball, and those who love the sport, will go further.”_

_“You have an iron heart, Kiyoshi Teppei,“ a soft voice called._

_Kiyoshi jolted up at the sound of an unknown voice calling his name. He turned towards the door where he’d heard it from. There, standing in the door, was another person._

_He was short, with powder blue hair and clear blue eyes. His expression was blank, but there was something in him, something in his eyes, that spoke of power. He couldn’t sense anything from the stranger, and yet, at the same time, he had an aura._

_“Anyone else would have crumbled mentally. Everyone else has crumbled. We won and your team fell part — even your coach.“_

_Kiyoshi swallowed hard. Now that he got a closer look, he could recall this player. He was number 15, someone who was on the court, yet he was never seen. He wondered how the other did it. How he disappeared like that. Disappearing like a ghost in the middle of the game was not normal, yet that’s exactly what the other had been. A ghost. A shadow._

_His eyes went wide, when the realisation hit him. Their Vice-captain was known as the infamous Phantom Sixth or the Phantom Prince, as some called him._

_“Are you here to mock me, Phantom Prince?“ he responded bitterly._

_The other didn’t even twitch at his tone. “Not at all, Kiyoshi-san. I’m here to apologise.”_

_Kiyoshi sat up straight at those words, looking at the other in shock. “W-what?“_

_“What Atsushi had told you about your efforts being useless . . .“ he shook his head, displeasure flashing through his placid features._

_But the emotion was gone as fast as it had appeared. Kiyoshi wasn’t even sure if he’d seen it right. The teal-haired boy was even harder to read than the redhead. If he thought the redhead had kept a poker face throughout the match, then what would he call the stoic expression of the Phantom?_

_The teal sighed, “That was unbecoming of him, as both a player and as a student of Teikō. As much as I care about them... right now, I’m ashamed to call them my teammates. I’m afraid they do not know how to handle their own skills. I apologise for how they handled this match.”_

_Another sigh._

_“I have a lot of talking to do with them. Looks like it’s time to snap some sense into them. You’re not the only team... who ended up like this,“ his tone was soft and sorrowful. “I hate it. I hate that they — we’re destroying something we all love so much. But...“ the sharp blue eyes ran over him. Kiyoshi barely stopped himself from shivering._

_It was like the other’s eyes were seeing right into the deepest corner of his soul. It was disturbing._

_“Do you love basketball, Kiyoshi-san?“_

_Kiyoshi blinked, studying the other, trying to make sense of him. Sadly he couldn’t get a read on him — everything about him was plain and forgettable, yet... yet there was something unique about him. Something that would forever be burned into his mind. Kiyoshi wished he could put a name to whatever it was, but he couldn’t. It was like he was being judged, and his answer would determine his fate._

_“Hai.”_

_A brief smile appeared on the teal’s face, then the seriousness was back. “Then hold onto that love. Don’t give up just because of what people say. Use that, as your motivation to push harder.“_

_He turned away then. Kiyoshi opened his mouth to speak, but the other beat him to it._

_“One day... I promise you, I’ll snap them back to their senses. I want to hear them say they love basketball as sincerely as you say it. One day, I’ll kick them down from the high horse. And then, I would like to play against you or maybe with you, once more. You have skills, maybe not on the level of Atsushi... not yet... but in time. In time, you can be like him — maybe even better than him. Because even after today, you have something that he and the others have lost. You still have your passion for basketball. And in the end, one’s passion and will determines the game as much as one’s talent does. Never lose that iron will of yours, Kiyoshi-san. It’s an admirable trait.“_

_Kiyoshi swallowed hard, staring at the other. What..._

_Was this kid in middle school? He... he didn’t sound like a middle schooler. He sounded older. Wiser. Burdened and alone, even if he had his team. Or did he? Throughout the match, Teikō hadn’t exactly used teamwork. The only thing that somewhat resembled teamwork was how this kid passed the ball. Because, Kiyoshi realised, he couldn’t really recall him doing anything else._

_Disappear, steal, pass and disappear again. A true phantom, indeed._

_“Wait!”_

_The other paused, his back to him. Kiyoshi thought that the Kanji on his back, declaring him a player of Teikō, felt less taunting than they did before, even if the regal stance and the subtle aura of power did not disappear._

_He was invisible, yet compelling. What an enigma this player was._

_“Can I at least get your name? You know mine, after all. I should...” he pointed out, trailing off awkwardly. (He felt kind of bad for not knowing his name. He was a Teikō player, just like the other five, and the Vice-cap on top of it.)_

_The teal glanced back over his shoulder, amusement flashing through those striking blue orbs. “If you remembered me, I’d be a bad Phantom. But... today I will make an exception, as a show of respect. My name is Kuroko Tetsuya. I look forward to meeting you again,_ **_Tessin_ ** _.”_

_And then he melted back into the shadows, becoming one with them. No matter how much Kiyoshi looked for signs of movement, he found none._

_He hummed softly, “I look forward to meeting you again too, Kuroko Tetsuya.”_

“What happened?“ Himuro asked with a raised eyebrow.

Kiyoshi shrugged, “We had a little chat and... it’s not like I like being called it... but have you heard my moniker before?“ he asked.

Himuro saw how uncomfortable he was. Still he asked, “Yep. Iron Heart, no?“

Kiyoshi nodded, “Hai. I... Kuroko was the one who called me that for the first time. It stuck with me after that match. I wonder, even to this day, _what_ he did. A month after that game, the whole basketball circuit... well, the main talk was the _Kiseki_ , of course. But the second most that I caught was them calling me _Tessin_ . I still have no clue how Kuroko did it. I don’t even think he realises that _he_ gave me my moniker.”

Himuro blinked. And blinked again. “Oh, well... I see. So that’s how you ended up joining this Club, hm? They beat you, but Kuroko...“

Kiyoshi smiled, “Yep. Kuroko was being Kuroko, even before we actually became... friends. So I ended up here.”

Seriously... the Club had seemed like a good idea, Kiyoshi thought. It had been only meant for Kuroko at first. Really. It was kind of unfair how no one remembered him. Sure, Kuroko himself had said that was the point of being a Phantom. He was meant to be forgotten once the match was over — even during the match. It was how he helped his team achieve victory in his own way. Still, it didn’t seem _fair_ . The other five stood in the spotlight, but Kuroko was in the dark when he deserved so much more. He had been, and probably still was, the _heart_ of the Miracles.

Afterward that encounter, Kiyoshi had kept an eye out for any news about the Miracles. They’d torn through their competition. They’d crushed Meikō the worst. But other schools too, with over 200 points...

Still somehow, somehow Kuroko had managed it. He’d snapped some sense back into them all.

_Kiyoshi sighed and wondered what the hell he was even doing in this part of Tokyo. It’s not like just by being here he was going to randomly meet that Miracle. Kuroko Tetsuya was, as his moniker suggested, a shadow. He was near invisible and completely untraceable. It was fascinating, yet supremely frustrating at the same time. Seriously... he just wanted to_ **_speak_ ** _with the kid._

_Their previous meeting had been a rather one-sided conversation, with him still being in shock from the lost match. He wanted to thank Kuroko for, at least, having enough humanity and courage to approach him. For apologising for something... for something his teammates had done, mostly. But then again, Kuroko had passed them the ball. Still, from what he had heard, there was not much change in the Teikō team._

_They’d recently crushed Miekō too, he’d heard. Still, something told Kiyoshi that Kuroko had tried speaking with his teammates, just as Kuroko had promised him. So he did owe a thanks to the teal for the effort, at least.But mostly for those sincere words, because Kiyoshi had toyed with the idea of giving up._

_But before he could truly give up basketball, Kuroko’s words had come back to him. He had realised that he loved the sport far too much to let the losses get to him._

_He wandered the streets aimlessly. He wasn’t particularly religious, but right now, he pleaded with the kami to let him meet Kuroko Tetsuya just one last time ... and then their business would be done with. Afterwards, the teal could even forget all about him, if it was better for the other._

_He was snapped from his thoughts by the distant sound of a basketball bouncing and feet running. Oh, there was a street court nearby? Hm, perhaps the kids would let him join? He hadn’t played for real in a long while. Shōei’s Club had literally stopped existing after that match against Teikō. Even their coach had resigned..._

_He shook his head and headed towards the sounds. By the time he reached the spot, the sounds died away. But he could see people still occupying the place. He walked closer, but then he froze when he realised who was there._

_It was a bunch of kids with colourful hair wearing white-blue and black uniforms. The uniform of Teikō Chūgakkō. And the kids... they weren’t just kids from the school. No, they were the (in)famous_ **_Kiseki no Sedai._ **

_If that weren’t shocking enough, then the scene itself was. There were seven of them — six boys and a girl who also wore a Teikō uniform. He could recognise the distant form of Kuroko._

_The pink-haired girl stood frozen, leaning against the chain fence for support. She looked like she’d faint any moment. The Kiseki themselves looked like they’d seen dead rising from their graves. All of them were sitting or lying on the ground, their eyes wide and horrified and their bodies scattered in a loose circle. The one closest to the hoop Kiyoshi recognised as their Captain, Akashi._

_He, like the others, was also kneeling/sitting on the ground, his posture tense. The only person who stood tall and proud was Kuroko Tetsuya. The Phantom’s eyes were burning brightly with that unknown something Kiyoshi had seen_ **_that_ ** _day when the teal had sought him out._

_He was dribbling the ball in a measured manner. The rhythmic sound of it hitting the ground like a ticking clock signalled their impending doom or some final judgement._

_“Do you see now, Seijūrō?“ Kuroko spoke, his tone measured and devoid of emotion as he looked at the redhead. “You’re not as infallible as you’d like. Not you, not Daiki, not Ryōta, not Shintarō nor Atsushi. I won each game, did I not?“_

_“You did, Tetsu,“ a voice rumbled softly. Kiyoshi saw the dark-skinned one shift,_ _turning from staring blankly at the ground to gazing at_ _Kuroko. Ah, that was Aomine, right?_

_“We are strong. But not invincible. No one is invincible, because fighting spirit and passion can overcome even the best laid plans. I hate this. I hate what we’ve become,“ Kuroko said frostily._

_Kiyoshi had a feeling he was intruding on something personal by watching this, yet he could not make his feet move. The scene was just so surreal — the best team in the basketball circuit was on the ground, defeated. And the one, who was standing adobe them, triumphant, was the one member of the team, whom some whispered did not even exist._

_“I hate how you don’t even play anymore. You just step onto the court to_ **_destroy_ ** _. That’s_ **_not_ ** _basketball. I thought that my warning after that match with Shōei... I thought it had been enough. And what did you all do when I’m not on the court?_ **_You destroy another team!_** _”_

_(So... Kuroko remembered their encounter as well as Kiyoshi himself?)_

_Kiyoshi flinched. He noticed that the Kiseki finched too. Somehow... he didn’t know Kuroko Tetsuya, but something told him, deep down, that it was very uncharacteristic of the Phantom to raise his voice in such a manner._

_“I did not start playing to destroy others’ dreams. Do you remember, Daiki? It was_ **_you_** _, who encouraged me to work hard, to try. I was just a forgettable face in the Third String, and you told me to fight for my dreams...”_

_Kiyoshi’s eyes went wide. He’d heard about Teikō’s strict string-system. That... the Phantom had started on the Third String? And made it to the First String to play with the other five? What the Hell?! How much skill did he have?_

_“And you, Seijūrō ... you taught me to play the way I do. You told me to hold onto what I want, to work for it. But, at the same time, it was you who told me not to forget to have fun while playing. And you... Shintarō... you helped me hold together the team. You supported me the most when I was named Vice-cap. We were friends..._ **_you all_ ** _became my family. But this is not a team, much less a family. Atsushi used to remind us to eat, Satsuki to do our homework when we got drowned in club work and practice. We hung out together, went out together. We practically lived together! The only thing that was missing was us all moving into the same damn house! And now what?! You... you turn into cocky brats! The kind you all said you hated! You are the very epitome of who you hate!_ _Crushing everyones’ dreams is **not** basketball. This is not the basketball Ogiwara-kun taught me. This is not the basketball _ **_Nijimura-sempai_ ** _taught us!”_

_All the Miracles cringed at the second name, as if they’d been physically hit. Kiyoshi raised an eyebrow, startled at their visceral reaction._

_The ball sharply hit the ground again, and all of them flinched once more. This time, Kuroko didn’t catch it. He allowed it to bounce a little, before it rolled away._

_“Shōei... Their Captain is just like us, you know? Someone who loves basketball as much as you did... the fire in his eyes is like Daiki’s eyes used to be.”_

_Kiyoshi’s eyes went wide when he heard Kuroko speak about him. What..._

_“And_ **_you_ ** _snuffed that fire out.“ Kuroko said, the dark aura seeming to gather around him. Kiyoshi shivered. There was something cold and dangerous in the Phantom. “He was just like us. A student who loved basketball and we — you took his dreams away when you played the way you did, despite my words. You crushed everyone that very same way. You crushed Meikō like that._ _I’m not on the court_ **_once_** _..._ _and you crush Meikō worse than ever before. Ogiwara Shigehiro... he,_ **_he_ ** _was the one who taught me to play. He taught me to love basketball. If not for him, I would have never joined the team or even gone to the gym that day.“_

_All the Miracles looked up. Kuroko’s face was still blank, but it somehow conveyed all his frosty feelings._

_“And he played for Meikō a few months ago. He was my best friend. He quit playing afterwards... and he doesn’t even speak to me anymore.“_

_Kiyoshi watched as, slowly, the terror of understanding settled on the others’ faces. “Tetsu...“_

_“Don’t ‘Tetsu’ me, Daiki!” the teal snapped. Kiyoshi watched the dark-skinned player — Aomine Daiki — flinch back. “You lost the right to call me_ **_that,_ ** _when you told me you didn’t need my passes anymore.”_

 _Aomine flinched back even more at the mention of that, terror oozing from every pore of his body. Kiyoshi pitied him. When he met the Phantom, Kuroko Tetsuya had been somewhat intimidating. But this... this was downright_ **_terrifying._**

 _“Nijimura-sempai would be so,_ **_so_ ** _disappointed now...“ the teal growled, eliciting another flinch from his teammates._

_“Tetsuya...“ the redhead called out, his voice uncertain._

_Kiyoshi watched as Kuroko Tetsuya turned his back on the team.“ **Y**_ ** _ou_ ** _were the ones who said you didn’t need me anymore,“ his voice was softer now. It was sad, instead of angry, “Fine. Play as you will. But I will_ **_not_ ** _take part in any more destruction. What you are doing is_ **_not_ ** _real basketball. I love basketball too much to desecrate it, or to continue standing by and watching you desecrate it, in such a way. I respect my fellow players — adult, teen or just a child, learning to hold a ball — too much to destroy their dreams. We should have been an example for others. Not the ones who destroy their will...”_

_“Don’t go, Tetsucchi,“ the blonde called. Kiyoshi could see the tears on his cheeks. “Don’t leave us.”_

_Kiyoshi’s breath hitched as he watched. Damn it... to think their own skills and success were exactly what was tearing their team apart..._

_And Kuroko Tetsuya... he’d kept his word, Kiyoshi decided. He’d tried making his teammates see sense, but it obviously hadn’t worked. And this,_ **_this_ ** _was his one last desperate move. But even this didn’t seem to be working._

_The greatest team was falling apart in front of Kuroko’s eyes._

_How much strength did Kuroko Tetsuya have in him? To be able watch opposing teams crumble, yet still believe in his teammates. To watch his own team crumble, yet still try to save them — all the while never losing the will to hold a basketball. Kiyoshi remembered how the teal had called him Iron Heart... but was that really him?_

_Right now, it seemed like the Phantom had been describing himself instead._

_As he started to walk away, Kuroko’s steps were so light that Kiyoshi couldn’t even hear them. He left the Miracles and the girl — who was now wailing — just as broken as the Miracles had left countless others._

_Then, in an impressive show of speed, Aomine Daiki was on his feet and standing behind Kuroko, his hand wrapping around the teal’s arm. Kuroko stopped._

_“Tetsu...“_

_“Release me, Daiki.“_

_Kiyoshi shivered. Wow._ **_That_ ** _was how you commanded people..._

_“I’m not holding you here as a teammate, Tetsu,“ the other said. “Therefore the order does not mean anything.”_

**_“Release me.”_ **

_Kiyoshi shivered again. It didn’t escape his attention that the green-haired player shuddered and the blonde inched farther away from the source of that chilling voice. Murasakibara was trying to shrink in on himself, looking like a child. Even the Captain seemed taken aback, and Kiyoshi remembered the overwhelming aura the redhead had on the court well._

_“I-Iie, Tetsu. Ke- kesshite. I will not lose my brother,” even Aomine seemed to struggle saying those words._

_Kiyoshi quirked an eyebrow. Brother? Oh... oh, yeah. Kuroko said he saw the team as his family. It seemed the team shared that sentiment. But then... what had gone so wrong for them? Was it really their skill? All the victories?_

_“And I won’t, either,“ a smooth voice spoke up. “You’re not allowed to leave, Tetsuya,“ Akashi stood and slowly walked over to Aomine. “You’re one of us.”_

_“You do not seem to think so, Seijūrō,” the teal rebuffed frostily. “ **Y**_ ** _ou_ ** _made me Vice-Captain, and what have you been doing all year long? Ignoring me. That’s not how a team works. That’s not how_ **_friendship_ ** _works.”_

_“You’re right,“ another voice called. This time, it was the green-haired player speaking. He walked over to them. Kiyoshi’s brows furrowed, looking for the player’s name buried within his mind. Mi... Midorima. Yep. He was the Shooting Guard with that impossibly high-arc shot._

_“That’s not how it works,“ Midorima affirmed, “and we see that now. We ... we let our skills blind us. Our pride... we were too absorbed in our own world to notice what we were doing.”_

_“You taught me better than that.“ another person spoke up, and Kiyoshi noticed the blonde walking over to the others. Tears were rolling down his handsome face. “Yet, I’ve forgotten your lessons. Gomen, Tetsucchi.”_

_“Tet-chin is better than us all,“ Murasakibara declared. Kiyoshi watched as he too stood up, sluggishly moving over to his teammates. “We should have listened to you sooner. But we will now. We won’t crush anyone anymore.”_

_“Never again,“ Akashi said._

_“You were right, Tetsu,“ Aomine insisted. “Passion matters. Others can love the game the way I — the way we do. And we shouldn’t have taken that love away. I... I know I’d hate the ones who tried taking away something I love.”_

_“And I shouldn’t ever have said those mean words I said months ago,“ Murasakibara said, “to that Shōei player. He... he kinda really reminds me of Dai-chin, thinking back. Loved the game as much... and he was as stubborn as you, Tet-chin. But... in a good way, I guess.”_

_“What was his name again?“ Akashi asked. “Both of those names, in fact. The players you mentioned, Tetsuya.”_

_Kuroko shook his head, “It does not matter anymore, Seijūrō.”_

_“It does.“ Midorima presisted, readjusting his glasses. Kiyoshi could see the light of the setting sun reflecting on the glass._

_“It matters, Tetsucchi,“ the blonde insisted. “If ... if we hadn’t acted the way we had, we wouldn’t be here now.”_

_There was silence._

_“Damn it, Tetsu, don’t be stubborn, “Aomine grunted. “Their names.”_

_“We owe them an apology,“ Akashi said, crossing his arms in a regal manner. “I can find them, I have the sources to do so, but I need their_ **_names_ ,** _Tetsuya. You said it just now. We shouldn’t walk on others’ dreams and hopes. So we_ **_won’t_.** _“_

_“The first step to that is an apology,“ Midorima said slowly._

_Kuroko sighed, “I’m not even sure you’ll find them. My frie — former friend quit basketball altogether, and Shōei’s Club fell apart after they lost.”_

_Kiyoshi blinked. How the Hell did the teal know about that? Was he some oracle or what?_

_“I have_ **_connections_.** _“ Akashi insisted. For whatever reason, the phrasing didn’t exactly calm Kiyoshi’s nerves. Should he reveal his presence to the Miracles and get it over with before the Yakuza ended up breaking into his grandparents’ home?_

_Kuroko sighed, acquiescing to their insistence, “Ogiwara Shigehiro from Meikō. And Shōei’s Captain, Kiyoshi Teppei.”_

_“Tesshin,“ Akashi said quietly._

_Kiyoshi grimaced at the nickname. He wondered if Kuroko realised that he’d landed him with a moniker after their brief encounter._

_“You’re one of us, Tetsu. A Miracle,“ Aomine said, bringing the teal into a hug. “We’re not losing you.”_

_“Yeah, he’s right,“ the blonde — Kise, was it? — said. “People may forget about you, our_ **_Phantom Sixth..._ ** _“ he giggled wetly at that, “but we won’t. You’re precious to us.”_

_“And we’ll be sure to listen more often from now on,“ Akashi said, and then the Miracles were hugging each other, surrounding the Phantom to the point that Kiyoshi could barely see the mop of teal in the middle._

_“You deserve the spotlight more than any of us,“ Midorima said. “You’re better than all of us put together.”_

_“We won’t let you go, Tet-chin,“ Murasakibara said. “No more crushed teams. Promise. Just stay.”_

_“I will.”_

_Kiyoshi swallowed, feeling his own emotions whirl to the surface. He turned on his heels and strode away. He didn’t really need to speak with the teal anymore. Their business was done, it seemed. Kuroko Tetsuya had kept his word._

_What an amazing player and person. If there was a Miracle who deserved to be called one, that was Kuroko Tetsuya. Yet... yet, he was the least known one — the one who dwelled in the shadows._

_Kiyoshi smiled to himself. Maybe he could repay the teal-haired boy’s kindness somehow? They mentioned someone called Nijimura... perhaps an ex-Teikō student._

_Hm, maybe he could find this person? Surely, this Nijimura knew Kuroko —and the Miracles — better than Kiyoshi did. And he needed more info on Kuroko. Who better than an ex-teammate? And this Ogiwara Shigehiro..._

_Yep, they were the people he needed to find. Now, if only he had a way to find them..._

Kuroko had done what he had sworn to do. Kiyoshi had been astonished that such an amazing and wise player had gained no recognition at all. So he had sought out Nijimura Shōzo and Ogiwara Shigehiro. The two had given him more insight into Kuroko Tetsuya and the Miracles as a whole. They ended up keeping in contact and even formed a sort of friendship.

Then, the idea of the club just popped up. Was it Nijimura? Or Ogiwara? He couldn’t decide anymore. At first, it had only been meant for Kuroko because it was kind of unfair, how the Phantom wasn’t recognized, while the other five had the spotlight. And then, it became a _Kiseki_ thing.

 _No_ , he hadn’t stalked the _Kiseki_.

Ogiwara and Nijimura simply knew where the group liked spending their time! But with each mock game he watched them play... his awe grew. And then Ogiwara had come to them, saying that Akashi had sought him out with the others — minus Kuroko — and apologised. According to him, Kise had even shown him a few tricks, since they shared the same position on the court. (And, Ogiwara had noted amusedly, Kise explained things the same way that Kuroko usually did.) That’s when Nijimura told them Kise had been mentored by Kuroko.

Ogiwara had been left gaping at the thought that his childhood friend had become good enough to mentor someone else. Kiyoshi still remembered when he told Ogiwara that Kuroko was, in fact, the Vice-Captain of the team. The poor lad had been left speechless and gaping.

_Kiyoshi sat in the teahouse, next to Nijimura, with Ogiwara across from them. All of them nursed a cup of their drinks._

_“And... do you guys know anything about how Kuroko’s doing? Haven’t really spoken to him, since...“ he sighed. “I should have, but it’s kind of odd to imagine talking to him. I mean... the Miracles came and apologised — and I appreciate that. It seems Kuroko really did manage to kick them down from their high horses.“_

_Nijimura chuckled, “He’s good at those sorts of things. Always kept Aomine-kun in check with Momoi-chan’s help. And, it seems, he’s grown as a player even more since I left. He did a good job, snapping them back to their senses.“_

_“Well, no one better to lead them,“ Kiyoshi said with a smile._

_Nijimura glanced at him curiously, but Ogiwara just furrowed his brows. “What? I thought Akashi was their Captain?“_

_Kiyoshi took a sip of his drink and grinned at Ogiwara. He had a feeling Nijimura already knew exactly what position the teal had on the team, but had purposefully left Ogiwara in the dark about it. “Akashi_ **_is_ ** _the Captain. And Kuroko is their Vice-Captain.”_

_“And as such,“ Nijimura said with a grin, “he leads the Second/Third String team in matches. Whenever the Captain and the Head Manager’s hands are full with training and preparations for big tournaments, like the Nationals, the Vice-Captain acts as the Captain for the other Strings. It’s meant to help the Vice-Cap learn to handle those duties. The Vice-Cap is usually from the First or Second Year, while the Captain is older. Then, the younger can take over, once the older graduates. They’re the first team who won’t have that happen, since all six of them are from the same year. Therefore both Akashi and Kuroko will have to look for players whom they deem skilled enough to handle the Club, once they leave.”_

_As Nijimura finished the explanation, Ogiwara’s eyes went very, very wide. Kiyoshi chuckled at the reaction. So Kuroko hadn’t shared it with his friend when he’d been made Vice-Cap. If Nijimura and Ogiwara’s stories were true, that was probably because Kuroko was a humble person. And damn, he absolutely was. Kiyoshi recalled how all the Miracles had looked on the court, the vicious look in their eyes. Only Kuroko had looked different. And he had proved to be different when he had sought Kiyoshi to apologise for his team’s actions while the other Miracles just scoffed at Shōei’s efforts._

_It took almost comically long for Ogiwara to speak again._

_“Damn, now I want to re-watch their matches. It’s so unfair that Kuroko doesn’t get any recognition...“_

_“He’d be a bad Phantom, according to him, if he were remembered,“ Kiyoshi muttered. “Or so he said. Which I don’t believe. He’s just as amazing as the other five. And he has a heart of gold.“_

_“Damn right he does,“ Niimura agreed. “All of them do... they just got a little side-tracked.”_

_“Good thing Kuroko was there,“ Ogiwara said. “I mean, I can see they’re not all that bad. Akashi’s damn intimidating, but Kise’s fun to be around. And a surprisingly good teacher. And... Aomine’s amazing too. I can kind of understand how he and Kuroko ended up so close. Murasakibara’s just cute with how he clings to Akashi. Or Kuroko,” he snickered. “Kuroko handled him as if he were a five-year-old.”_

_Nijimura chuckled, “Kise probably picked up his teaching methods from Kuroko and Kuroko from Akashi. Really, they taught each other more than I taught them. By the time I left, they were codependent, which is hilarious, because aside from Kise and Murasakibara, the others were rather insistently self-reliant, when not on the court. Alright... Aomine wasn’t_ **_entirely_** _, but he wasn’t as bad as Kise or Murasakibara.”_

_“Self-reliant or not... they’re all amazing on the court,“ Kiyoshi said. “Even when they were being pulled apart, Kuroko somehow glued them back together — and then beat some sense into them.”_

_Nijimura hummed, amusement flashing in his eyes, “You didn’t see how he did it?“_

_Kiyoshi shook his head, “No. All I saw was them on the ground, Kuroko standing above them and dribbling a ball. And talking, then shouting, then preparing to leave. The lot of them refused to let him go when he said he was quitting the team. It was a frightening and rather marvelous thing to see.“_

_Ogiwara hummed, “Man, I want to see him play against one of the others. I mean, we’ve seen him play with them... but what can it be like when they play against each other?”_

_Kiyoshi shrugged, “Breath-taking, I’d wager. But I’m sure they wouldn’t let such a thing be seen so easily, especially given how secretive Kuroko is about his capabilities.”_

_Ogiwara huffed, “Man... he really needs more appreciation. The others... okay, I believe you if you say they made up, but still. He needs a bit more appreciation than just them.”_

_“That he does,“ Nijimura agreed softly. “That he does. All of them do, in fact. It’s not fear they need when someone speaks of their team, but love and awe.”_

And that had been the springboard of the Kuroko/Kiseki appreciation Club.

It had kind of been a joke, but then... it grew. And grew. And grew.

And today, Kiyoshi was proud to say that their not-so-little-anymore club had around five thousand members. Maybe. He hadn’t texted Nijimura to ask for exact numbers in ages.

“So...“ Himuro spoke up again, snapping Kiyoshi out of his thoughts.

Kiyoshi hummed, “Yes, Himuro?“

“Mind if I join this Club of yours?“ he asked. The General chuckled at the admiring sheen in the other’s eyes. He remembered how he’d felt this same feeling of awe when he’d first met Kuroko in Seirin and watched the teal-haired boy play.

He wondered if Kuroko remembered him. He hadn’t acted like he did, but back then, he had spoken about Shōei... He shook his head and smiled at the Yōsen student.

“Not at all. But we’ve still got some things to deal with here, so Ito-kun will help induct you. He’s the Captain of the Basketball Club now and also kind of the Head of the Club. I and Nijimura were just the one who toyed with the idea, but it’s the current students who mostly manage the Club.”

Himuro nodded. Kiyoshi watched as he took a shirt from the table of merchandise which had the Teikō symbol on the back and chibi versions of the _Kiseki_ on the front. “Can I take this too? _Please_ ? I’ll pay for it, I promise... I really will! I just... It’s _cute_ and...“

Kiyoshi waved him off., “We’re not selling yet, but since you asked so nicely, I’m sure we can make an exception.”

The face splitting grin that appeared on Himuro’s face made Kiyoshi laugh. After inspecting the shirt, probably to make sure it was the right size, the Shooting Guard snatched it up. “Thank you, Kiyoshi.”

* * *

Himuro followed the Teikō student, Ito, down the corridors until they passed the gym. He raised an eyebrow at Ito, who walked in front of him. Kazunari was walking next to him. It appeared that the Shūtoku student was committed to this course as well and wished to join the club. Not that Himuro blamed him. Kazunari, like him, was around one of the Miracles all the time. Joining this Club, when their love and admiration for the prodigies was this great, was the least they could do.

“I still don’t understand how Taiga doesn’t appreciate Kuroko more,“ he sulked a little. “Does he even _realise_ what it means to be the Vice-Captain of a Club as intense and prestigious as Teikō’s?”

“Eh, I’m not sure...“ Kazunari muttered, frowning a little. “Damn. Not that I want to be mean to your friend, but it feels like Tet-chan would be better off with Aomine or Akashi. This whole thing makes me feel as if he’s holding back in order to play with Seirin. Shin-chan certainly made it sound like that when we played against them...“

Himuro hummed, “Such a tragedy. It’s not that Seirin are not a _good_ team... but there was a reason Kuroko was partnered with Aomine. And it’s clear as day that Aomine’s _better_ than Taiga.”

The Power Guard nodded, “We agree on that then.“

“We’re here,“ the student announced. He stopped in front of a non-descript door. Both High School students raised an eyebrow when the younger stopped. Was this not a storage room?

The student opened the door and waved them inside. Both of them stepped inside. Just as they guessed, it was a storage room filled with basketballs and other necessities for the Club and those generally needed for a PE lesson. Still, they found the Vice-Captain of the Club standing there with a few others. The Vice-Cap was dressed in his jersey and sweater — as if he was preparing for playing a game.

“Are you two serious about this? If you join, there’s no way to go back. This promise lasts a lifetime,” the Vice-Captain warned seriously, as the Captain joined them.

Himuro and Kazunari shared a look. Both of them turned back to the Captain, Ito. When their eyes met the other students’ eyes, they nodded.

“We’re sure,“ they said together.

“A Miracle’s our teammate,“ Kazunari said. “This... showing our support and love for them is the least we can do. They grew here, but ever since they left, they’ve helped our teams grow and win.“

“Indeed they did,“ Himuro affirmed with a small nod.

The Captain and the other students nodded, “Then go,“ a dark-blue haired kid said, his grey eyes serious. The Vice-Captain led them farther into the room. Once they reached the end, they spotted something in one corner.

It was made with careful care, that much they could tell. It was a tiny shrine... almost like a kamidana. There were small white bowls for offerings. It was made of fine dark wood, and the rope on the top was dark blue. There were also seven unlit candles standing there, each a different colour, to represent the seven Miracles. In the middle of it all stood a picture of the _Kiseki_ and Momoi, all of them smiling widely into the camera with medals hung around their necks.

“Before you kneel and make the Oath...“ the Vice-Captain called, causing both of them to look at him, “do you swear to only speak the truth, in this sacred place?“

“We swear to only speak the truth,“ they said together, their eyes glinting with seriousness.

The Teikō students shared a look as if judging the veracity of their words, and then all of them nodded. Ito gestured towards the shrine. “Then kneel and repeat the Oath. You will speak your name and school the way I do.”

Without hesitation, both High School students knelt in front of the tiny shrine, bowing their heads.

“I, Ito Hiroto, student of Teikō Chūgakkō...“

**“I, Kazunari Takao, student of Shūtoku Kōkō.../ I, Himuro Tatsuya, student of Yōsen Kōkō...“**

“...pledge myself to the seven prodigies, blessed and chosen by the kami, to be our guides...”

**“...pledge myself to the seven prodigies, blessed and chosen by the kami, to be our guides...”**

“I swear to always do my best on the court, no matter whether it is during training or a match. I shall be someone worthy of their approval and protection.”

**“I swear to always do my best on the court, no matter if it is during training or a match. I shall be someone worthy of their approval and protection.”**

“I swear to support them with all the means at my disposal and respect them until my dying breath. I will do my best to learn from them. I shall forever strive for their approval, and I shall forever protect their good reputation.”

 **“I swear to support them** **with all the means at my disposal** **and respect them until my dying breath. I will do my best to learn from them. I shall forever strive for their approval, and I shall forever protect their good reputation.”**

There was a moment of silence. “May the Miracles bless you, Himuro Tatsuya and Kazunari Takao. Welcome to the Club,” the Captain declared.

Both of them stood up, bowed towards the shrine once more, and then beamed at each other. Now they could properly show their appreciation to their teammates.

* * *

Meanwhile, the seven Teikō returnees were heading towards the nearest Maji burger to eat something and spend some time together.

Suddenly, both Midorima and Murasakibara paled and shuddered. The others stopped, looking at the two tallest members of the group with worry.

“Shin? Atsu? Is everything alright?“ Aomine asked with a raised eyebrow.

Murasakibara and Midorima both frowned, sharing a look. Just from that look, they could tell that they had felt the same thing. It was strange and unknown... but it didn’t bode well.

“I... we felt something,“ Midorima muttered, fiddling with the bandages on his fingers. “Something... something drastic has happened somewhere. Something fate-changing...”

The others shared a look, and then Akashi shrugged, “I didn’t feel anything. It must not be too bad. Come on, let’s eat something. You can worry about fate-changing events tomorrow. For now, let’s enjoy some food and this moment of peace without our teams...”

They all agreed and hurried towards Maji, but the chilly feeling lingered around the two students for the rest of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FUN FACT: According to some KnB info I found, Akashi and Midorima DID wear white lab coats, while "coming up" with snacks for Murasakibara to eat. (I assmume they wanted his snacks to be healthier, since they were kids/athletes, after all.)


	5. 𝓐𝓻𝓰𝓾𝓶𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓼 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓞𝓭𝓭𝓲𝓽𝓲𝓮𝓼

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The five (six) coaches can do nothing but watch the arguments and oddities happening around the Miracles. Once this damn camp was over, _they are going to ask for a raise, because this was not included in the job description _and it was just becoming too much...__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, this beauty was corrected by the wonderful @Steff on 12-13/02/2021  
> Thank you for the thousandth time for being so patient and thorough.

As the days went by, the teams could no longer ignore the strangeness of Teikō or brush it off. Sure, there were a few who still brushed it off as a game — mostly the _Kiseki_ , but some others as well. Even the coaches started to take notice.

This time, the daily dose of oddities started when Sanada came around and asked for some help, expectantly turning towards three Miracles. Midorima, Kuroko, and Akashi shared a look before the Shooting Guard raised his hands in surrender and took a step back.

“ _You_ led the Club, so don’t look at me like that.“

Akashi and Kuroko stared at each other for a long moment in a silent battle of wills, before Kuroko sighed, “Fine, fine. I’ll go,” the Phantom murmured.

Akashi hummed, pleased and then — to the shock of Seirin and Rakuzan — patted the teal-haired player on the head. “Arigato, Tetsuya.”

Seirin knew Kuroko hated it when someone messed with his hair, and they knew he despised it even more when someone tried to pat him exactly like that. But Akashi was doing what Kuroko hated and patting him on the head. To their surprise, Kuroko just stayed there for a moment, letting Akashi pat him.

When he walked off, the more observant ones noticed the slight spring in his step. Once the Phantom left, Aomine snorted, “You’re _evil_ , Sei.”

The redhead’s eyes narrowed on the Ace. “Come again, Daiki?“

Aomine rolled his eyes, “We all know Tetsu hates when his hair is messed with. And yet you somehow make him like it. He likes it when _you_ do it. And... I guess the last time you did that, the patting I mean, was sometime during our last year.”

“Second semester’s third week,“ Momoi chimed in confidently. “The last time he did it was in our last year at Teikō, and the second semester’s third week.“

Aomine grunted, rolling his eyes exasperatedly at the pink-haired girl, “I’m not even going to ask _how_ you remember that so precisely.”

Aomine and the other Miracles weren’t fazed by Momoi’s lightning-fast recall of the information, but everyone else was. Teikō and non-Teikō students alike were staring at Momoi, incredulous that she remembered something like when Kuroko was skipping so precisely. Yes, _Kuroko skipping in happiness_ was the most unbelievable scene ever because of how stoic and reserved he always was, but still. You don’t remember things so easily like _that_. Unless your name is Momoi Satsuki...

Momoi shrugged, “Tetsu was skipping. The only time he ever skipped was when Sei did that. Haven’t you noticed yet?“

Aomine waved her off, “Yeah, yeah,“ then he looked back at the Captain. “So the point is that patting him on the head like _that_... that’s like bribing Murasakibara with a bag of sweets. Unfair. You’re ditching your work to Tetsu.”

Akashi’s eyes narrowed even more, “No, I’m _not_. But you are being jealous and clingy. You’ve been lingering around Tetsuya more than normal.”

Aomine crossed his arms, “Dunno _why,_ “ he bit back. “Maybe ‘cause Tetsu’s _my_ Shadow and I missed him?“

“Oi, Kuroko’s in Seirin now!” Kagami growled, glaring daggers at the Tōō Ace. “He’s our teammate. _My_ Shadow.”

Aomine snorted derisively, glaring back at the Seirin Ace, “Like Hell he is! I told you, _your light’s too dim_ for Tetsu! You didn’t even know he’s our Vice-Cap! And I’d bet a year worth of burgers and banana milk that you’ve never seen more from him than Misdirection!”

“W-what do you mean ‘more’ than Misdirection?“ Kagami parroted back, blinking. Some others from Seirin also inched closer, staring at Aomine sharply, expecting him to elaborate.

Aomine growled, throwing his hands into the air. This time, even Kise made a displeased sound, offended on Kuroko’s behalf. “Sei! Shin! Why did Tetsu go to Seirin?! They don’t know a freaking thing about him! And Kagami’s light is too dim for him! Damn, it’s nonexistent at this point!“ he ranted, glaring at Kagami.

“Nonexistent! Ah, you — you _Ahomine_!” Kagami spat back.

* * *

Meanwhile, as the Miracles and Kagami were arguing, the six coaches just stared oddly. Honestly, these past few days had just been too odd and impossible to process. First, the Teikō students call the Miracles by these odd monikers and titles, and the Teikō club even _knelt_ in front of them. And now this.

Harasawa groaned, rubbing his face, “What’s with these kids and their odd slang? His ‘light’ being ‘too dim’... Never thought Aomine could be so… _poetic_.”

Shirogane sighed, “Akashi’s melodramatic like that too. And Mayuzumi even goes along with him, although for the life of me, I can’t understand _why_. Akashi says some odd things about light and shadow too...“

“Well, at least your Miracles don’t carry around random items during training. Midorima’s good, I’ll give him that… but why? Plushies, statues, _potted plants..._ ” Nakatani said, shaking his head, as the others gave him consoling looks.

Then Araki shook her head, “At least yours don’t act like overgrown children who leave crumbs _everywhere_...”

“Try dealing with Kise’s fans,“ Takeuchi grouched. “Sometimes neither Kasamatsu, nor I can get rid of them. And Kise skips practices too...”

Harasawa growled, “I’m just happy if Aomine turns up for matches. I’m sure if it weren’t for Momoi-chan, he would have long been kicked out of the school.”

Aida sighed, “Looks like I have the easiest one to _deal_ with, huh? Polite, quiet, doesn’t skip practice...“

“I almost envy you,“ Harasawa said. “The odd riddles aside, because it seems _he_ goes along with that stuff too.“

Aida shrugged and smiled, “It’s... a metaphor, as Kuroko-kun put it. He needs a flashy player on the court in order for him to stay undetected. The flashier the player, the better they are for him. I suppose that’s true for Mayuzumi-san, as well. He has Akashi, and Kuroko-kun has Kagami. And I guess... what they mean by it is that the better the partner, the better their Phantom can play. Mayuzumi-san has an easier time with Akashi, I suppose. But Aomine’s convinced that Kuroko is better than we know and, more importantly, that Kagami’s skills are not good enough for Kuroko to play his best.”

The coaches hummed, but then Harasawa just shook his head again, “It’s not like it matters where Kuroko plays. Even if he were with one of us, instead Seirin, Aomine would likely just act the same way.“

Aida glanced at the players, “Well, I don’t know. As Kuroko put it, he’s most ‘compatible’ with Aomine, Akashi and Kise out of the Miracles. So he probably would have gone to one of their schools, if they weren’t convinced they needed to be on a different side of the court. Maybe then, Aomine would attend practice?“

Harasawa sighed, “It’s no use dwelling on what-ifs...“

“I’m more concerned about these odd titles the students call them...“ Araki admitted.

“Oh, it’s just a childish game,“ Shirogane dismissed, glancing at his colleagues. “They are all prodigious in their own ways, and all of them on the same team in a school that’s known for its Club.“

“What kind of childish game involves a permanently reserved private table and the students calling our teams names just because they wanted to sit there, not knowing about that fact?“ Takeuchi asked. “It isn’t alright. They sound and act like Kise’s most extreme fans on a very bad day.”

“It’s probably what they are,“ Araki said with a frown, “overenthusiastic fans, who happen to know their idols personally or, at least, closer than most fans know the ones they admire, because they all attended Teikō. Now that the Miracles are back, they’re getting wild ideas. Murasakibara dismissing their behavior is one thing. But if the others dismiss it as an enthusiastic fan club... Kuroko, Midorima and Akashi all seem to be the rational types. If this was more than play-pretend, they would probably know and say something.”

Aida nodded, “Yes, probably. They’re really the more... reasonable ones, compared to the others. Oh, and Momoi-san. I’m sure she would have done or said something about it by now, if this was getting extreme. But I will definitely speak to Kuroko-kun about this... ”

“Fair enough,“ Harasawa agreed. “But it’s still… _abnormal_ to watch kids act like this.“

“Fans are never completely normal,“ Takeuchi pointed out, “and definitely _not_ teenage fans, Katsu.”

The other sighed, “You’re probably right.“

“Although...“ Aida muttered, “I have to give it to the Miracles... they’re very good at keeping a straight face during these ‘pretend’ scenes. Kuroko-kun and Akashi being calm about it all is somehow expected. But I would have expected Aomine or Kise to laugh, or maybe for Aomine to say something demeaning.”

They were snapped out from their conversation by the volume in the room growing. They refocused on the scene of the two Power Forwards almost at each other’s throats...

“Daiki! _Enough_ ,” Akashi called sharply, causing many to tense.

Aomine was still glaring at Kagami, “C’mon Sei! Don’t tell me you’re okay with this idiot underestimating Tetsu, because...!”

“ _Daiki,_ “ Akashi called again. This time Aomine clamped his mouth shut, “That’s better. Thank you. As for what he believes . . . let him. We all know the only reason Tetsuya chose Seirin is because of the teamwork he saw between them and because he didn’t wish to be too far from his home. Had it not been for our agreement, he would have gone with you to Tōō.”

Aomine grunted, “I’m sticking to it. **_His_** _. . ._ “ he jabbed a finger at Kagami, “ _light is too dim for Tetsu._ ”

As Aomine said the words, Kagami scowled fiercely. The rest of the teams wondered what was going on with the Miracles (and Kagami). They were speaking oddly about light and shadow, and Aomine had said those final words, as if they were the dirtiest swear words of the universe.

Kagami growled, still tense and ready to pounce, but then Aida interrupted. “Kagami! Enough. Behave, please. If you have enough energy to cause a scene, you can go through the exercises meant for today twice.“

The American sighed, but not before throwing another look at Aomine. Aomine scoffed, and then he looked at Akashi. “The usual?“

Akashi nodded, “Hai.“

Then, to the utter astonishment of Tōō, he started training and kept quiet through it all. The only indications of his stormy mood were the murderous glares he kept throwing Kagami. When Kuroko briefly returned to the gym to speak with Akashi, Aomine was the first one by his side, pointedly nudging the Phantom as far from Seirin — from _Kagami_ — as possible.

* * *

A while later, Aida was making her way back to the First String gym to make sure her team was training properly, when she caught a flash of a familiar shade of blue. Her interest piqued, she changed her course to have a look at what Kuroko was doing.

Teikō students filled the gym, and the only familiar face among them was Kuroko. It seemed they’d just finished a practice match. The Club’s Captain stood near Kuroko, and she noticed the Phantom giving the younger male a benevolent smile.

“Good work, Ito-kun. Not only your teammates, but the rest of the Club too are all well-looked after. I spoke with a few of them, and they all said you and Tachibana-kun handle everything smoothly. That’s a relief to hear, but remember to rely on others. The managers are here to help out, and, of course, pay attention to the coaches.”

“Of course, senpai. I will,“ the boy said enthusiastically, eyes sparkling.

Kuroko nodded and patted the kid’s head, exactly the way Akashi had done with him earlier. “Keep up the good work and never forget to have fun. Loving basketball comes first.“

As Kuroko took his hand away, the kid nodded again. Kuroko looked towards the door at the farthest end of the room and glanced back at the students. “I need to check on something. I’ll be back shortly, please continue training.”

“Hai, Captain!” the team chorused, as Kuroko turned away. Aida just stood there, blinking confusedly. Kuroko wasn’t their Vice-Cap anymore... so why did they...

She was snapped from her thoughts by a dreamy sigh. Ito’s face was glowing with happiness, and the rest of his teammates were looking at him with wide eyes.

“Did... did the Prince just pat your head?“ someone asked in shock.

Ito nodded, tugging at his hair, almost like a dreamy fangirl. “He... I achieved my life’s greatest goal! Now I can die happy! His Highness blessed me...“ the boy trailed off.

The other team members were looking at him in admiration and envy. “Man... I wish the Prince would give me the same honour.“

Another spoke up, “Unlikely. It’s happened so rarely. Even His Imperial Highness rarely patted His Highness’ head, and they’d been so close... Why would the Prince, or any of them, really, bless us with this? It’s the highest honour...“

“Michiko said she saw the Emperor do it today, before the Prince went to help kantoku. And I heard the foreigner who parades around as the Prince’s new partner dared to badmouth the Wild Knight. In fact, she said that he bad mouthed both the Prince and the Wild Knight right in front of the Emperor...”

“ _Heathen_...” the Vice-Captain hissed darkly. “How _dare_ he?”

Aida slowly backed away from the scene. She couldn’t stay. This... this was _madness_ . They... what was this? Some sort of religious cult? Damn it… at this point, the only thing missing was a shrine dedicated to the _Kiseki_ and this whole thing would _legitimately_ become a worshipful _sect_.

She swallowed hard and hurried after Kuroko. She had to tell him.

She found the Phantom sitting in the coach’s office by the desk, reading some papers. She gently tapped the door to get his attention.

Kuroko looked up and blinked at her, “Coach?”

She took a deep breath, to fortify herself, as she walked in. “Kuroko-kun? Do you know that the students are quite... _enamoured_ with you?“

The Phantom shrugged, “We were the best, and we grew into the best here. They want to be like us. They’re like that with all of us. This training camp... is more for them than for us. For them to see us and know we’re like them and not out of reach.”

“K-Kuroko! They keep calling you ‘Prince’ and ‘Emperor’ and all those titles! It’s _not_ normal!” she insisted.

Kuroko heaved a sigh and placed the paper on the desk, looking at her. “It’s just a game, and I believe we told you as much when we arrived.”

Aiada shook her head vigorously, “No. _Seriously_ . They were just talking about _you blessing them, all because you patted the kid on the head_ and —”

Kuroko’s eyes narrowed on her, and she closed her mouth. That look in his eyes was... it was that dangerous one. The one he had given Murasakibara and Kagami a few days ago. “It’s just a _game_. Let them have fun. In fact, let the other _Kiseki_ have fun. Kami-sama knows they’ve got too much to worry about, especially Seijūrō. Let them relax a bit. That’s why we’ve come here. To commemorate our years here as friends and as a team. And to motivate these players to do their best, just like we did as members of the team.”

Aida opened her mouth to speak again, but then decided to snap it shut. This… this Kuroko wasn’t the quiet, polite Kuroko she’d come to know. This was someone else — quiet and polite still, but with power and authority radiating from every inch of his body. He was a true Captain, used to handling ambitious and hot-headed individuals, like Aomine and Kise. He was someone who handled the whiny First Years who preferred to skip practice.

She sighed. He was firm in his belief that this was a game. She wasn’t so sure, though...

“Do you have anything else to say, coach? Or may I finish this before I return to my training?“ he asked, his tone quieter than before, but the underlying steel hadn’t faded.

She sighed again, “Finish it, I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble,“ she gave him one last searching look and then whirled on her heels and left.

Damn it all. If this was a game, as Kuroko said, and not something more serious, she would eat her whistle.

* * *

Several of Seirin’s First Years — as well as Sakurai — were helping to clean up the space they had used for training, since the Miracles were preoccupied with training together and helping Teikō’s students. Since this whole training camp was centred around the Miracles’ anniversary celebration, Teikō had asked their old students to play a match against one of the attending schools, to show their skills to the current students.

Of course, the Miracles accepted, jumping at the chance to play on the same side of the court — no matter how many times they had said it was better for them all to be separate. To everyone’s surprise, Akashi proposed for Rakuzan — led by Imayoshi, of all people — to be their opponents, as Teikō had planned for two games before celebrations started for real.

They decided on holding one game between the Miracles and one of the High School teams and another match between the Miracles and the current First String of Teikō.

“Man... I wish I could see them play,“ Kawahara murmured.

Sakurai looked at the Seirin students in confusion, “B-but we’ll see them play in a few days anyway… I-I mean all o-of them. The Miracles, that is.”

Kawahara nodded, “True, true. But c’mon! Don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy watching them that morning when they went three-on-three. They were just messing around and even then! Watching them play is... _it’s amazing_! And who knew Kuroko was their Vice-Cap?“

“Yeah,“ Tsuchida agreed, nodding vigorously. “We knew he had to have some skill to be called a Miracle… but their _Vice-Cap! That’s so cool!_ ”

Sakurai hummed, “Aomine-san’s amazing too. It… some of our teammates from the reserves always mutter that he has no shooting form at all, but... why would he need _one_? He can shoot from any angle! And that speed! I wish I could be half as good as him. Or any of them. Even just their ball-handling skills are on a different level.”

“Ne, ne... am I hearing admiring words directed at the miraculous team?“ a cheerful voice called.

The group stopped for a moment and turned to find a certain blue-eyed Shūtoku student watching them with a wide grin. Fukuda shrugged, “Oh, don’t tell me you wouldn’t want to be like them! You’re on the same team as Midorima! He’s got to have some pretty neat skills too...”

“Oho! Shin-chan’s amazing, trust me. That shot... you follow it up and up until you lose it... When you start to think the ball might have been lost, it just drops into the basket as if the gods dropped it there.”

“Sounds so cool,“ Kawahara muttered. “Seriously... if only we could... sometimes I have the feeling we don’t contribute to the team, and it feels so bad. Kagami, Hyūga, everyone contributes, except for us. Ah... and Kuroko’s so good at motivating people. Who knew? But whenever he says something like _that_ — something motivational, I wish I could help somehow...”

Kazunari’s eyes lit up, “What if I told you you _could_ help? I mean, showing your support and appreciation towards your teammates who are on the court also matters.”

“We could...?“ Fukuda asked, his eyes lighting up.

Sakurai seemed thoughtful and then nodded resolutely, “Ah, Aomine-san’s sometimes hard to deal with, but even when he’s stealing bits of my bento, he’s always been nice to me. Even gave me a tip once... I want to help him and the team as much as I can.”

“Man... I wish the Miracles could teach us something awesome. I mean... Kuroko’s always training the Teikō kids, and the other Miracles take turns in helping him...“ Tsuchida pointed out.

Kazunari nodded, “What if I told you could help them... and maybe later even ask them for tips?“

All of the other First Years perked up, “We could...?“

Kazunari nodded, “Yep,“ he answered, popping the “p” at the end of the word enthusiastically. “Meet me here after today’s training’s done, okay? I wanna show you something.”

All of them shared a look and then nodded.

* * *

The five adults escorting the teams did their best to ignore the sudden, eerie quiet around them as the teams entered the cafeteria. It was concerning just how much attention the Miracles had gotten ever since they arrived here. However, none of the adults could decide if they were concerned for their players or the Teikō students.

Fans, after all, could be quite a hassle. They all sat down and quietly observed as best they could.

Kise, Murasakibara, Midorima, and Aomine sat at the colourful table, while Akashi, Momoi, and Kuroko went to get their food. The scene was always the same, every day since they arrived here — minus the Teikō students rebelling against one of the teams for making the mistake of sitting at the Miracles’ table. After that first day, everyone had silently agreed that sitting at the decorated table will _not_ be attempted again.

When the three returned, the other four stood up (in disturbing sync, as if they were being dragged by strings). On the way to get their trays and food, Aomine wasn’t paying attention where he was going and he bumped into one of the students. Harasawa frowned, expecting Aomine to lash out at the poor boy.

The boy squeaked in fright and bowed to Aomine apologising deeply and vigorously. That made the coaches raise their eyebrows, mostly because the kid was apologising to Aomine as if he’d just bumped into the principal.

Aomine eyed the kid for a moment, and Harasawa shifted, ready to stand up and stop his player from making a scene. He knew that it was within Aomine’s nature to make a big deal out of such small things. But Aomine just waved the kid off, “It’s fine, it’s fine. No big deal,“ Aomine made a lazy gesture in front of him. “Get your tray, hm?“

The coaches watched as the younger’s eyes went very wide, looking at Aomine in shock, and then he bowed again, even deeper, and hurried ahead.

“They’re treating the _Kiseki_ like nobles,“ Harasawa grunted. “No wonder they’re all so arrogant. If this is what their Teikō days were like...“

“And the school probably hasn’t done much to discourage them if they’re still doing this now,” Araki pointed out, a frown on her features.

“It’s a surprise such a prestigious place would allow this.“ Shirogane muttered.

Takeuchi just sighed, “As long as _our_ players don’t join in on this nonsense, I’m fine with it. From what we’ve heard, Kuroko Tetsuya is the most down-to-earth person among the Miracles. Surely, he’ll keep the other five from getting extreme.”

“Let’s hope so,“ Araki muttered. “The brats may be disrespectful, but at least they pay attention to the Phantom. That’s something, I suppose. He and Akashi certainly make Murasakibara take training seriously.“

“Same with Aomine,“ Harasawa said. “I’ll admit, I had doubts about Kuroko, but not anymore. He’s clearly learned to handle the others and they respect him deeply.“

“Maybe we should keep an eye on him. There has to be a trick to how he does it,“ Nakatani muttered. “Right now — if it means I can handle Midorima easier — I’m willing to take advice from a student. And I’m willing to put up with this charade too, just...”

The other adults all sighed and nodded. They understood what he meant. As long as their own players didn’t start calling the Miracles by their Teikō monikers, they would be fine with this. They would just need to put some extra effort into beating some sense into the Miracles, if (when) the admiration Teikō had for them went to their head.

The thought alone made them sigh exhaustedly and share a despairing look. “I’m starting to feel we’re not getting paid enough for dealing with the Miracles,“ Takeuchi muttered.

“We agree then,“ Nakatani said. “How haven’t the coaches from Teikō resigned? Dealing with all six of them at _once_...” he shook his head. “Good thing that such prodigies are so rare.”

“Maybe we should ask for tips...”

The sentence was cut off by the sudden silence that reached their ears. The Miracles had finished their food and stood up. (Again, the eighth seat by their table, the rainbow one, had remained empty all throughout the meal. No one had attempted to sit there. Why? Whose seat did no student even attempt to take? They had heard several students, First Years mostly, muttering about wanting to get to know or wanting to sit with the seven returnees, yet no one had made a move to do so.)

At the same time, the Teikō students fell quiet, watching the _Kiseki_ ’s every move.

Akashi and Kuroko took the lead, with Momoi hurrying to stand next to Kuroko, while the other four followed them calmly in pairs. Aomine stood with Kise, and then Midorima with Murasakibara.

Kuroko opened the door, and they were ready to leave the cafeteria. But Aomine glanced back at the tables where the rest of the Teikō students sat. “Next round of training’s in the backyard, so you can come and watch if you want.”

Those words sent the younger generations into loud cheers, their feet stomping beneath the tables.

“All Hail the Miracles!” 

“All Hail the Miracles!”

“All Hail the Miracles!”

The seven glanced back smiles on their faces — or, at the very least, they looked kinder and more approachable than the coaches had ever seen them.

“All Hail Teikō!” the seven called back, their voices clear and sharp above the loud chanting.

In turn, the chanting just got louder, as they walked out. They stood side by side, already leaning closer to one another to discuss something.

_“All Hail the Miracles!”_

_“All Hail the Miracles!”_

_“All Hail the Miracles!”_

The coaches shared an exasperated look, their meals now lying forgotten, amidst the chaos.

“I need a raise,“ Harasawa moaned, massaging his forehead.

The others shared long-suffering stares. “Forget the raise. Why did we ever even _agree_ to come?“

* * *

Several hours later, by the time most of the so-called “foreign” teams had returned to the hotel to sleep, a few foreign students still lingered in the building — namely, a bunch of First Years from Seirin and one from Tōō.

They all perked up, surprised, when they found Kiyoshi standing by the main door, lazily waving at them. “Hello. I heard from Kazunari-kun you’d like to have a look.”

The Seirin students shared a few surprised looks. “Ki-Kiyoshi-sempai? How are you still here?“ Tsuchida asked.

“Ah, the Student Council president agreed to let me stay,“ the older said. “So… are you coming?“ he asked, waving them in.

“What is this anyway?“ Furihata asked.

Kiyoshi grinned, as he continued down the corridor, “A Club... and since you guys like Kuroko-kun so much, I thought you’d like to have a look,” he then glanced at Sakurai. “I also noticed that you’re the only one from Tōō who actually lingers around Aomine. Not counting Momoi-san, of course, since they’re like siblings...”

Sakurai nodded, “A-ah, yeah, it’s always amazing to watch him play... and the team might grumble about him a lot, but he’s never been too bad to me. I think they should be a bit kinder with him, and then he’d be easier to handle. And Kuroko-san’s amazing too...”

Kiyoshi smiled widely, “Kuroko? Yes, yes, he is.“

He stopped in front of a door, and then gave the group one last, wide smile. “Welcome to the _Kiseki_ Fan Club, my friends...”

* * *

An hour later, the _Kiseki_ were fooling around on the street court, not really playing. Since all seven of them were on the court, they were just running around and passing the ball — practising, yet still having fun. Now that they were together again, they were going to use every minute they could.

Kami-sama knew when they’d find the time to meet up again. And even if they did meet up, those meetings never lasted longer than two days, since they all had family and duties they had to get back to. It was nothing like the endless hours of basketball practice they spent together, day after day, when they still went to Teikō.

Kuroko smiled and passed to Momoi. The pink-haired girl dodged past Kise, attempting to reach the hoop, when she abruptly dropped the ball. Aomine and Kuroko froze as well, staring off into space for a moment. Panic flashed over their faces.

“Satsucchi? Daicchi? Tetsucchi? Are you okay?“ Kise asked, looking at them in concern.

Kuroko shuddered along with Momoi, as the three of them shared a look. “Did you feel it?“ the manager whispered. Kuroko nodded, his face full of panic and sorrow (To an outsider, it still appeared deadpan, but the _Kiseki_ could read him like an open book).

“Feel what?“ Akashi asked, quirking an eyebrow in inquiry.

The three shared a look. “Something... it felt like something or someone just… changed. Like an innocent was somehow... corrupted...”

“Or more than one,“ Kuroko muttered. “It’s... I can’t even find the right word. Maybe not corrupted... but at least somehow _tainted_...”

Akashi and Kise shared a look, and the redhead rolled his bi-coloured eyes. “You’re just imagining things. Maybe we should get back and rest, because you’re clearly starting to hallucinate or imagine things from the exhaustion. Nothing happened.”

“But Shinicchi and Atsucchi said they felt something like that yesterday.”

Akashi shook his head, disbelief and exasperation settling on his face. “As I said, you’re just imagining things. _Nothing happened_.”

And yet, even as they were strolling back towards their hotel, Momoi, Aomine, and Kuroko huddled close together. The unknown, chilly feeling wasn’t leaving them alone.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, please leave comments and tell me what you think! Comments make my world go round! Thank you! ☺️


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